Unknowns, Part the Second
by CharlotteBlackwood
Summary: A sequel to Unknowns. AU. The Dark Lord is dead, but life still has challenges to present. How will Harry Potter and Catherine Black grow in a world without war? How will Sirius Black adapt to peacetime after going to the brink of hell? The relics try to cling to the past while the world barrels toward the future. HP/OC, SB/OC, JP/LE, NL/HG, DM/AG, M for lemons to come
1. Letters from Hogwarts

**A/N: If you've not yet read the first part of this (Unknowns), you don't have to strictly speaking, but you'll be missing out on a lot. Because I've created a very AU set-up, you'll understand best if you start at the beginning. It's only 34 chapters total, and a fairly fast-flowing read.**

 **Also, for returning readers, the stampcard will count reviews from part one and part two, so if you didn't review the end of the last story, you can still go back and do it. ;)**

 **If you don't know the stampcards, check my profile. If you'd like clarification, feel free to PM me.**

 **-C**

Lily rubbed her eyes, sitting up in bed as she heard the cheering of her son and husband downstairs. Judging from her husband's babbling, or what she could hear of it, Harry had received his Hogwarts letter, just a few days before his eleventh birthday.

She put her feet on the cool wood floor and stood. She had been planning to see Damocles Belby today, but she supposed it could wait for tomorrow. Knowing her husband, he would want to go shopping for Harry's school things immediately. Perhaps she should call Alice, take Harry and Neville shopping together.

"Lily!" James called up the stairs. "Lily, he's got it!"

"I could hear!" she yelled back, smiling at their responding laughter.

As if there could have been any doubt that Harry would receive his letter. Every time she tried to cut his hair, it grew right back to its wild, unmanageable length. Perhaps now that he was learning to control his magic, she would be able to give him a proper haircut.

Lily and James were older, busier, but not much changed for it. Living through a war had aged all their peers before their time, and responsibility was just something they took in stride. For James, it was taking care of their son. For Lily, it was healing people, and working on improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion she and Damocles had invented to help people like her dear friend, Remus.

She pulled on her dressing gown and went downstairs, where James was doing a fry-up, probably in celebration of the news.

Harry was at the kitchen table, the very picture of what his father looked like at eleven, except for his bright green eyes. He'd even chosen glasses remarkably similar to James's, and no matter what James made, the two of them seemed to put away massive amounts of food without putting on a pound between them. They burned enough calories flying about the countryside, playing pickup games of Quidditch with Sirius Black and his family at the Selwyn estate during Sirius's holiday breaks from Hogwarts, but Lily suspected that they could sit around doing nothing and still not gain any weight.

"Mum, can I write Uncle Sirius?" Harry asked as James put the kettle on. "Kitty will be so jealous."

"Of course you can," Lily said, fighting a smile.

Catherine, Sirius and Cara's eldest, was named for her mother in a strange way. When Cara first came into their lives she didn't know who she was, and she thought her name was Catherine, a name planted in her mind by Death Eaters. For the first months of their knowing each other, before her memories returned, the Order knew Cara as Catherine, and sometimes former Order members still called her Cate. Her husband regularly called her Cat.

When their eldest child was born, Sirius was adamant about naming her Catherine, in spite of possible confusion, and it proved to be a suitable choice. She was growing up to resemble her mother greatly, with dark brown hair, aristocratic features, and a perfectly tapered chin. The one thing she had from her father was his gray eyes.

Kitty, Sirius had dubbed her, a name reserved for family and friends, and when Sirius referred to her, he called her Kitty-Cat.

Harry and Kitty could be a bit competitive with each other, always trying to run faster than each other, sneak Cara's wand and outdo each other at simple spells, fly higher on brooms – even the toy brooms they'd used in very early childhood. She won some things, like magical issues, and he won most of the athletic pursuits.

Harry hurried off to write his letter, to have a slightly boastful moment over Catherine, even though she would be coming to Hogwarts next year. Lily walked up behind James, who was pouring the tea, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck.

"Shopping this afternoon, love?" she asked. "Or tomorrow?"

"What works for you?"

"Either," she said. "I'll clear my schedule no matter which. Only, do you want to go with the Longbottoms, or alone?"

His body stiffened and she let go of him so he could turn around and put the tea on the table.

"I hadn't thought of that," he said, still grinning. "Go ahead and call Alice and see what they want to do. That might be fun for Harry, if he goes with a friend."

Lily kissed him and went to the sitting room to use the Floo. The sooner they got in touch, the quicker they could solidify their plans.

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Ron sat at the end of the kitchen table at the Burrow, reading over his shopping list. When his brothers got into Hogwarts, there had been a bigger to-do, and maybe he would have had a little more attention, had Percy not gotten a Prefect badge in his letter. Even Fred and George were focusing their efforts on teasing Percy about his badge instead of teasing Ron about the unknowns of the first year, like how students were Sorted into houses, or what house he would be put in.

Maybe he would write to his cousin, Rhea Prewett, about his letter. She might be jealous enough to care that he'd be going to Hogwarts.

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All the whining in the world would not budge his wife, but it made James feel better. He told his wife that it wasn't fair, that their son was in at Hogwarts and he wanted to go now, but Lily was unrelenting.

Alice and Frank couldn't take Neville until August, and so they weren't taking Harry until August 1st, and that was that.

"That's okay, Dad," Harry said, shrugging and smiling. He was still enjoying the idea that he could lord it over Catherine at his birthday party, but James was slightly disappointed that his son couldn't see how much better it would be to hold a wand when bragging. Catherine would never get over her envy.

At least, until her letter came next summer.

"Maybe I'll buy you a broom to make up for it," James said, scratching his chin. Harry was still using his father's old Shooting Star, and Catherine got to use a Comet because Cara didn't fight with Sirius like Lily did with James.

"No!" Lily said from the kitchen, and James winced. He was too loud. "He's not allowed a broom first year, James, you know better!"

"Stupid bloody rule," James grumbled, winking at Harry.

He'd figure out a way to get Harry a broom somehow. Maybe he'd have words with Minerva about how quick and agile Harry was on even a poor broom. Maybe she'd be desperate enough to finally win the Quidditch Cup again that she'd convince Dumbledore to bend the rules.

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Neville ate his lunch quietly, not wanting to wake his Gran, who was not feeling well, deciding to take a nap. She often napped when Neville was having lunch at her house, when his parents had shifts at the same time, as they would for the last few days of the month, including his birthday.

He didn't really mind. Gran's house was interesting, with lots of old pictures and books to explore, and a fascinating garden in the back that he could explore with caution. Gran kept a very close eye on him, but Neville knew it was for his own safety. He'd not shown spectacular signs of magic, and they weren't even sure he'd have magic strong enough to get into Hogwarts.

His mother arranged for them to go school shopping with Harry in a few days, after their birthdays. Neville thought that would be nice. It wouldn't be nearly as intimidating if he weren't the only one going through the steps of purchasing his school things, getting a wand, doing a robes fitting.

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Every year, on his birthday, Harry's parents held a birthday party for Harry at Godric's Hollow, inviting whomever he wished. This typically included the Blacks and the Longbottoms, although Neville and his parents were unable to come this year because they were celebrating his birthday a day late because of their work schedules.

Uncle Sirius and Aunt Cara brought their three children, Catherine, Jason, and Caroline, and Harry got to celebrate being another year older. Because Catherine turned ten in April, turning eleven felt like a particular accomplishment to Harry. His birthday was like a reset button, allowing him to be the oldest properly again.

Apart from Catherine, who had a spring birthday, all of Uncle Sirius's children were summer birthdays. Jason had just turned eight in May, and in about a week, Caroline would turn seven.

Catherine walked into the house holding her father's hand, with a bored, superior expression that seemed to come naturally to her.

"Happy birthday," she said, "and congratulations, I suppose."

Harry smirked as Uncle Sirius clicked his tongue.

"Be nice, Kitty-Cat," he teased. "Claws in. No, good for you, Harry. Bought your things yet?"

"We're taking him tomorrow," Harry's mother said, kissing Uncle Sirius on the cheek. "We're going with Frank and Alice."

Aunt Cara and Harry's mother kissed each other's cheeks as Caroline and Jason trailed in after her.

The eeriest thing, to Harry, was how Caroline was starting to learn her sister's facial expressions, the looks of superiority.

"Hey, Jason," Harry said. "Hey, Caro."

They chorused their hellos and Harry's dad called out, "Dinner's ready!"

All eight of them crowded around the kitchen table, and Harry's parents began dishing up dinner. Catherine and Harry sat across the table from each other, as usual. She sat almost unnaturally straight in her seat, and he purposefully slouched to tease her, knowing it bothered her when he slouched. Her nostrils twitched with irritation, and her eyebrows rose imposingly. She had such thick, smooth eyebrows, curved gracefully like they were painted on her face.

If things got quiet between the kids, Uncle Sirius and Harry's father did enough talking and silliness between them for all eight people, and they kept everyone entertained. Harry's dad would tease Caroline – which their mothers didn't particularly approve of – and Caroline would turn everything right back on him. The teasing that went on between Harry and Catherine was nothing to little Caroline, who teased virtually everyone she'd ever met.

"I hope you're looking forward to History of Magic, Harry," Uncle Sirius said, winking.

Harry said he was, but in truth, the subjects his uncles Sirius, Remus, and Severus (whom he'd always really thought of as Professor Snape) taught were the ones that made him most nervous. All of them were required Ordinary Wizarding Level subjects, and depending on what Harry wanted to do, he might need all of them at the NEWT level as well. History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions were notoriously difficult courses, although Harry suspected that the first two would at least be fun.

"What are you going to do this year, Kitty?" Harry said while his mother cleared the table for cake and presents.

Catherine's nostrils twitched again and she said, "Adra and I will probably have lots of fun without you lot."

Adrasteia Lestrange, Catherine's cousin, was Catherine's age and had two younger brothers she was always trying to escape from. Harry liked Catherine, in spite of their teasing each other, but he'd never liked Adrasteia. Catherine was talented and never actually acted better than she was – she was just far above ordinary – where Adrasteia thought she was better than even Catherine, and as far as Harry could tell she really wasn't that great. She didn't fly, she couldn't do any spells better than Catherine, and she didn't even like to run. Harry didn't really have much use for her.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said sarcastically as his mother brought out the cake. It wasn't fancy, but he knew it would be delicious, and as far as Harry was concerned, that was what really mattered.

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After Catherine had brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas, she combed her long, brown hair, staring in the mirror. There was a knock at the door, and she told the knocker to enter.

Her father walked in, smiling at her.

"How are you, Kitty-Cat?" he asked, holding out his hands to her, which she took eagerly, dropping her comb and letting him kiss both hands, as was his custom. "Are you upset that you aren't going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Honestly?" she said, letting him pull her to her feet so she could walk to her bed. "Not really. I mean, Harry will be there first year by himself, but after he leaves I'll have seventh year without him there. And last is best, after all."

She knew her father was amused, and he probably had all kinds of arguments for why she was being silly, but she had the best father in the world, and he never told her she was wrong. Catherine wasn't stupid, she knew he was overindulgent. But other adults in her life were more than happy to tell her when she was being foolish, like her Uncle Rabastan, or any of her aunts.

"Daddy, why does Harry not like Adra?" Catherine asked as her father tucked her into bed, smoothing her hair away from her face as she settled her head onto her pillow.

He laughed his barking laugh and said, "You know she's full of it, Kitty. Harry doesn't like your cousin because she's a bit…self-impressed."

Catherine didn't really understand what meant, but she nodded thoughtfully, as she had been practicing, the nod that Uncle Remus did when he and Aunt Lily were speaking about things that had to do with work.

"Daddy, next year, when I get into Hogwarts, can we throw a party?"

He smiled, kissed her nose, and said, "Whatever you want, princess."

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Lily kissed James's lips and curled up next to him on the sofa. Harry had gone upstairs to write to Neville about his presents, since Neville couldn't be at his party.

"Will those two ever grow up?" Lily asked.

"Who, Kitty and Caro?"

"No, Kitty and our son," she said, flicking his nose playfully. "They're always at each other's throats."

James snorted and said, "Oh, please. You've seen Caro and Aeson, and they're only, what, five?"

Lily smirked.

"Aeson Lestrange is seven, James. Caro's very nearly seven."

"And I thank you for only letting me have one, darling, because his age is hard enough to keep track of."

He leaned his back against the arm of the sofa, pulling Lily on top of him as he stretched his legs across the sofa. Her head rested on his chest and she felt his fingers trace lazily through his hair.

The joke, with Caroline and Aeson, was that if history repeated itself, they would end up married, but Lily didn't think so. They weren't much like her and James. Caroline was too much like Sirius to be anything like Lily, and Aeson wasn't mischievous like James had been, but a little more of a bully.

"James, I think we should get Harry an owl."

He didn't say anything for a long minute, thinking over the proposition. James had an owl when they were in school, as did Sirius, and although Lily didn't like to encourage the rivalry, she knew that Catherine would have an owl when she started school, and it didn't seem right not to get him one when he could afford it and he would be responsible enough to have one.

"Alright," he said. "Let's have him pick one out tomorrow."

They lazed on the sofa for what felt like hours, full of cake and butterbeer, tired from entertaining and putting together the whole evening. When she heard the sound of the sink upstairs alerting her that Harry was brushing his teeth, however, she got up and kissed James's forehead.

"I'll tuck him in, love. Why don't you do the dishes?"

He stuck out his tongue playfully and said, "You always do the fun stuff."

She ignored him, knowing that he was only teasing her. She often worked long, fruitless, dreary days poring over potions that wouldn't pan out to progress, and James got to play with their son. James did other things, too, like the washing and much of the cooking and cleaning. He did a great deal of their shopping and kept track of their finances. With Harry gone, though, away at school, Lily wasn't sure how he was going to fill all of the extra time in his days.

Perhaps he would go to sporting events, or take up some hobby, or join a committee. Dorcas Prewett was always trying to get him to join committees because of his influence in society. Cara usually joined whatever Dorcas asked because Kreacher could always watch the children, but she and James had opted not to get a house-elf. Now, though, perhaps he would join the committees Dorcas had to guarantee werewolf rights to marriage, employment, and health care. James certainly wanted to have more to do with helping Remus, as Lily was doing.

Harry was laying out his clothes for the morning when Lily got to his room, and he smiled at her, shrugging at his choices.

"I like this jumper," she said, touching the bright green jumper Sirius and Cara bought for him for Christmas. "But I think it'll be a little warm for it. Why don't you wear one of those t-shirts your dad gave you? He'll be so pleased."

James had given Harry a massive stack of his old band t-shirts from concerts he and Sirius had gone to as teenagers, and she knew that Sirius was saving them for whichever of his children showed an interest in Muggle music. Thus far that wasn't really any of them, but Lily guessed it would end up being Catherine or Jason, since Caroline showed almost no interest in Muggle culture.

"Sure," he said, pulling one of the shirts out of the box, and Lily fought a smile at the Led Zeppelin t-shirt. That had always been a favorite of Sirius's. "Mum, are we still doing Christmases at the manor?"

"I don't see why not," Lily said. "You'd have to ask your Aunt Cara, though. It's her house."

Harry said goodnight, kissed her cheek, and Lily left him to go to sleep, knowing tomorrow his excitement would burn down his energy.

 **A/N: This story will be long, and follow all four Potter and Black children from this moment through Caroline graduating Hogwarts. Obviously, AU. No Voldemort or Death Eaters, but other troubles arise.**

 **Review Prompt: Thoughts on the children?**

 **-C**


	2. Diagon Alley

Neville and his parents arrived at the Leaky Cauldron right on time, but the Potters were already there. Harry was wearing a shirt with a symbol Neville wasn't familiar with, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter were wearing simple, black robes and their usual friendly smiles.

"Hey, Neville," Harry said. "Happy late birthday."

"Happy late birthday to you, too," Neville said. "Was Catherine jealous?"

Harry grinned and began to tell Neville all about the behavior of Catherine Black, whom Neville was acquainted with, but didn't really know nearly as well as Harry did. From what Neville could tell, one of Harry's favorite pastime was studying Catherine's behavior and testing her reactions to various prods and pushes.

The two boys led the way out to the brick wall, where Mr. Potter tapped the required brick that unfolded the archway. As usual, when the two families went shopping, Harry and Neville wanted to run everywhere at once, but their mothers held them back and forced order into the situation.

"Alice and I will get the books," Mrs. Potter said. "Frank, do you and James want to take the boys to get their robes? Then we can meet up at the apothecary."

When the adults were all agreed, the group split, and Harry and his father convinced Neville's father to pause at Quality Quidditch Supplies before purchasing robes.

"Nimbus 2000," Harry said longingly. "Dad, is Uncle Sirius going to buy Catherine a Nimbus 2000?"

"I doubt it, Harry," Mr. Potter said, shrugging. "She's perfectly happy with the Comet 260. You know she only flies fast when you're racing."

Neville was a person who was destined to stay with two feet firmly on the ground, and that was fine with him, but he enjoyed watching the races the few times he'd gone to Selwyn Manor, the Black family's country home. Catherine's Comet 260 wasn't an especially fast broom, but it was miles faster than Harry's Shooting Star. On the other hand, Harry's natural ability counted for a lot, and he was just a faster flyer on the whole than Catherine was, so the two came out relatively even, in the end. Harry usually won, but Catherine didn't seem to care.

The two competed in everything, athletics, simple spells they'd taught themselves, chess, even guessing the Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Bean, which Catherine was scary good at, to Neville's memory. Being around them as a pair could be exhausting.

"Before you break your wife's rule and buy your son a broom," Neville's father said with a grin, "why don't we actually take them to Madam Malkin's?"

Madam Malkin was a place the two boys knew well enough. Their parents were important enough in society that they needed nicer robes for special occasions, and growing as quickly as they were, they needed them almost annually. She wasn't at all surprised to see them, and they weren't especially surprised to see the pale, blond boy already standing on a short stool, being fitted.

"Draco!" Mr. Potter said, smiling. "Where are your parents?"

"Mother is looking at wands and Father is getting my books," Draco Malfoy drawled. "Is this your first stop, then?"

"Mum and Mrs. Longbottom are getting our books," Harry said with a nod as Madam Malkin ushered the two new boys onto stools.

Because Neville wasn't related to anyone, as far as he knew, Harry's web of family who weren't actually biological family was a puzzle to Neville. Harry didn't treat Draco or his family as cousins, although they were probably distant cousins of some sort, but Draco was biological cousins – or second cousins? – with Catherine, and so Harry did consider him family.

The three boys were fitted, and amazingly, Neville and Harry were done much quicker than Draco, who seemed to have ordered an extra set in a different style. They went to the apothecary, where Neville's mother and Mrs. Potter were already having a discussion with the proprietor about what the boys needed.

"I don't really like Draco," Neville said softly, so their parents couldn't hear.

Harry's lips twitched like he was about to scrunch them, thoughtfully, but then he whispered, "It's okay. Sometimes I don't really like him, either. He's not as bad as his cousins."

Neville, who was beginning to get dizzy trying to keep straight all of Harry's non-relations, thought this meant not the Blacks, but the Lestranges, and almost certainly Adrasteia and Brontes rather than their younger brother, Aeson. Neville had met all three of them at events, and there wasn't anyone in the world Neville liked less than Adrasteia Lestrange.

When potions ingredients were purchased, Neville's father suggested ice cream, and no one had an objection to that. They made their way up to Fortescue's, and the two boys pulled out their books, eagerly looking through them for spells they wanted to try.

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Sitting down on the edge of her brother's bed, Ginny kicked out her feet, one of them bumping a stack of comic books. Ron frowned at her, but he said nothing.

"Can you do me a favor, Ron?" she asked.

"What?"

He was in a bad mood, and she knew it had a lot to do with the fuss everyone was making over Percy. She thought the twins were funny, but she was getting annoyed with their mother's fawning, as well.

"When you get to Hogwarts, can you tell me what the Sorting's really like? I don't trust Fred."

Ron didn't smile, but his lips twitched and he nodded.

"I'll write you the first full day when I get a chance, tell you all about everything. But don't expect any other letters."

Ginny thanked him and went back downstairs. She didn't really expect much of a letter, anyway. Maybe a note. She and Rhea could read it together when they were breaking into the broom shed for something to do.

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The boys got quills, ink, parchment, cauldrons, scales, telescopes, and then they were marched into Ollivanders for their wands. Both Harry and Neville were trembling with excitement by this point, and Harry wondered what they would end up with. His parents had such beautiful wands, but he had seen wands that were plain, even ugly. What good was a wand if it didn't look majestic?

Because Catherine was sure to have a beautiful wand when she bought one, and Harry wanted a cooler wand than she had.

"Mr. Potter," a strange, elderly man said, bowing slightly to Harry's dad. "Mrs. Potter. Ah, and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. It has been some time, has it not? Let me see…"

He looked at Harry's mother and said, "Ten and a quarter inches, swishy, willow and phoenix-feather. Ah, and Mr. Potter, mahogany and unicorn hair, pliable. Eleven inches."

Harry and Neville were astounded as Harry's parents smiled and nodded, and then Mr. Ollivander turned to Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, and named their wands, as well, in the first go. Surely this man, this incredibly old man, had sold hundreds – perhaps thousands – of wands, and yet he could remember wands sold decades ago.

"Now," he said, turning to the boys, not smiling, but not looking at them harshly, "which of you is first?"

Although the boys had come in ready to bowl each other over to go first, this man had made both of them so uncomfortable that they hesitated, glancing at each other, before Harry said, "I'll go."

"Which is your wand arm?"

"Right," Harry said, and he held still as Ollivander began taking a series of measurements. After a certain number of measurements, the measuring tape continued the task and Mr. Ollivander began checking on the shelves.

"Right, try this. Beechwood, dragon-heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible."

Harry took the wand, waved it, but before he'd completed the motion, Mr. Ollivander snatched it from him. Neville watched with wide eyes as another wand was produced.

"Maple and phoenix-feather, seven inches. Quite whippy."

Again, he waved, but this was snatched away even sooner, so quickly that Harry was startled by the motion, and another wand was put in his hand.

"Ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches. Springy."

Harry tried it, and tried dozens of other wands, to where he was beginning to wonder what exactly they were waiting for. He'd always been able to use Aunt Cara's wand just fine, so what was the problem with all these other wands?

"Holly and phoenix-feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Once again, nothing, and Harry was beginning to lose all hope.

"Here's an odd one," Mr. Ollivander said. "Redwood and phoenix-feather, ten and a half inches. Supple."

Harry took the wand, and he waved it, and he felt warmth in his fingers even before he saw sparks emitting from the wand, almost without his summoning any thought of something happening. His parents and the Longbottoms clapped happily, and he realized he'd found his wand.

"Now then," Mr. Ollivander said, turning to Neville. "Your turn, young man."

Neville matched fairly quickly after measurement with a cherry and unicorn hair wand, the two families paid, and they left the shop what felt like hours later.

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Luna Lovegood sat on the floor of their sitting room, taking the stacks of newspapers her father set in front of her and cording them individually for delivery in the morning. It was a long job, especially without magic, but she felt as though she was doing something particularly useful for her father. She didn't know what he would do in a years' time when she got ready to go off to school for the first time.

Somehow he would manage, but she would be a bit concerned. Still, it would make their time more precious when she spent time at home.

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James was bubbling with excitement after his son finally got a wand, so it seemed an appropriate time for them to take Harry to get an owl. Lily had apparently mentioned it to Alice, who said they were thinking of getting a pet for Neville as well, although they weren't sure he would want an owl. Neville had a bit of a forgetful streak, and James completely agreed with his parents that he might want something a bit more independent, like a cat.

The boys were asked what they wanted, and Neville, predictably, asked for a cat. They decided to stop at Magical Menagerie to begin with, where Neville found a very sleek tabby cat, which seemed especially fond of rubbing against his shoulder. Harry did look at the cats, but with the promise of an owl, which he'd always wanted, he wasn't tempted.

They said goodbye to the Longbottoms, and the Potters went to Eeylop's Owl Emporium, where there was such a gathering of owls that James was momentarily overwhelmed.

"I'd forgotten how massive this place was on the inside," James muttered to Lily as their son hurried across to a row of tawny owls. He then turned to the barn owls very quickly, and quite right, too. Tawnies were ugly.

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy," Lily said softly. "Should we point anything out, or just leave him to decide?"

"He's a smart kid, he'll figure out what to do for himself," James said.

He took her hand and they watched as Harry moved down the row, asking the proprietor a few questions as he looked for the owl he wanted, and Lily caught her breath.

"Oh, he's been learning from Sirius," she sighed.

"What?"

"He's going to pick the prettiest, most expensive one. Look, there's a snowy in the corner and I think he's smitten."

James smiled to himself, but it wasn't just Sirius who had that kind of taste. After all, James went for the most attractive, hardest to get, hardest to please bird they knew, and so far it was working out very well for him.

"Mum, Dad, I think I want this one," Harry said.

Sure enough, he was pointing at a beautiful, expensive snowy owl.

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Rhea and Ginny watched the boys as they ran across the field behind the Burrow.

"I think Mum's going to put a table in the garden so we can all eat together," Ginny said shrugging.

Rhea and Ginny were close because they were the same age, and girls, but they didn't have much in common beyond that. Ginny was a tomboy, obsessed with Quidditch and flying and winning, and Rhea was a quiet soul. She liked to listen to other people because she found their lives interesting, and she found she learned more about herself and others when she listened to people than when she acted or spoke.

As usual, she was listening to Ginny, who was in a surprisingly pensive mood. Rhea suspected it had something to do with the fact that in about a month, she would be alone in the house with her mother most of the time, and that had to be a grim prospect for anyone. Not that Aunt Molly wasn't unfailingly kind, but she could…overbearing.

"D'you know," Ginny said, "I think we should look for frogs tomorrow."

"Why?"

Ginny shrugged as if to say, why not?

Rhea shrugged back and laid back on the grass and felt the cool breeze of the late afternoon roll over them. In a year's time, they would be on the way to Hogwarts too, and maybe Rhea wouldn't be invited to touch frogs, apart from Potions class. She could only hope.

"When your brothers leave, maybe you can come to our place," Rhea said. "Dad's buying me a mini Quaffle for laughs. It would be good practice."

Ginny giggled her approval of the plan.

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Harry was excited about his school things, particularly his wand, but the first thing he did when they got home was hurry upstairs with his owl, setting up her cage, her food, her water.

She was stunning, white with dark gray flecks, and a delicate beak. Her gaze was knowing, important, like she had been sure he would select her out of all the owls in the emporium, and that he was quite right to be about seeing to her before seeing to his things. When he filled the water dish, she gave his finger a gentle, affectionate nip, and Harry felt a strange feeling of pride. He caressed her feathers with stiff, anxious fingers that relaxed into the motion as he realized she was leaning into his touch.

Harry was still petting her when his father came up with his books and trunk, putting some of the things he wouldn't use before school in the trunk straight away.

"You'll need to be sure to read through your books before you start, because some of the teachers will expect you to know a thing or two, Severus in particular," his dad said. "And you may earn a few points for your house if you can answer the questions other people don't know." Then he smiled, as Harry was still bonding with his owl. "Have you thought of a name yet?"

"No," Harry said, stepping back as she turned to her water eagerly. "I want to pick the right one."

"Well, your mum may have some ideas. I'm rubbish with that kind of thing." Harry watched as his father slipped his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "Or Sirius. I think he could tell you the name of just about every important wizard or goblin ever." He paused. "Don't name her after a goblin. I don't even know if there are female goblins. I've never met one. Or heard of one. Ask your mum or Sirius."

Harry said he would, and his father left the room. Harry took the hint, in a way, and he hurried to the still-open trunk, snatching up one of his textbooks: _A History of Magic_. The captions were interesting, and Harry knew he would enjoy combing through this particular text as time went on, but for the moment all he needed was a proper name, a name that seemed to suit his owl.

After about a hundred pages, Harry found the name of a medieval Healer, a woman named Hedwig who, among other things, acted as a midwife. She perfected some of the more unique and creative methods for issues that can arise in cross-breed births.

He looked up at his owl, narrowing his eyes as she crunched some of her food in her strong, shining beak.

"Hedwig," he said out loud. "What do you think of that?" She looked up at him. "Would you like to be called Hedwig?"

She made a sound that wasn't exactly a coo – he was pretty sure that owls didn't coo – but it certainly seemed contented, so he nodded, setting the book aside and smiling at her.

"Hedwig it is, then. You've got everything you need?" He raised his eyebrows and she just made the sound again, turning back to her food, and he laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of course she did. What did he expect, her to make him a list of things she still required?

Still, something about her seemed almost human, almost familiar, and he half-expected her to tell him why the food was only barely suitable and that the water was too warm. He hurried down the stairs, knowing that if he waited a few more minutes he'd be called down for dinner anyway. His mother was laying out silverware when he got to the kitchen, and she actually seemed surprised to see him.

"Your dad said you were engrossed with your owl," she said, smiling as he laid out the plates without prompting.

"She's great," he said, his grin running away with itself. "Mum, I've named her Hedwig. I think she likes it."

"Hedwig," his mother repeated thoughtfully. "The Healer?"

"Yeah, I flipped through my book until I found something we both liked."

Mercifully, his mother didn't seem amused at the way he assigned almost a human personality and behavior to his owl. Instead, she told him that she very much liked the name, and could he get out a bowl for the bread.

 **A/N: Everybody say thank you to** _ **Kiitsu**_ **, a long-time reader whose catch-up reviews earned you an extra chapter today!**

 **For those new to the party, bonus chapters come with 10 reviews. Give me 20 in a week, you get two bonuses. Otherwise, I always post at least one chapter every Saturday. Want another bonus this week? Review, review, review! Reviews posted to Part One count toward this quota, so if you're flipping through it to get up to speed, even a one-word review earns toward the bonus quota!**

 **Review Prompt: A familiar scene… with significant changes. What's your favorite similarity or difference? You can give me both if you're feeling like an over-achiever.**

 **-C**


	3. The Hogwarts Express

Harry got into the family's boring Volkswagen Golf, and for the first time since he could remember he wasn't utterly depressed from looking at it. He didn't feel the jealousy of Uncle Sirius's impressive car collection. The excitement about his first train ride to Hogwarts was too impossibly immense to worry about that sort of thing.

The drive to London was long, but strangely not unpleasant. The morning air and its harsh cold were trapped outside the bubble of the car, and Harry had Hedwig and her cage beside him in the car. His mother was driving, mostly because his father never learned to drive to his mother's standards.

"Try to make lots of new friends," his mother said, about ten minutes from King's Cross Station.

Every thirty minutes, all the way there, she dispensed another little nugget of advice, like some kind of sage cuckoo clock.

"Yes, Mum."

He was listening, but he wasn't really thinking about anything she said. He was wondering what they would see on the train ride, who might sit with him and Neville, and if Draco would bother sitting with them. He knew Draco knew a lot of Slytherins already in school and might want to sit with them, and Harry found he didn't really mind that.

"Alright," his father said when they pulled into the car park. "Why don't you two get a cart and I'll get the trunk from the boot."

/-/

Jason rolled his eyes as his older sister whined at their father to leave later. Everyone at the breakfast table knew she didn't really care what time he left, except that Harry was going to Hogwarts and would see him every day, where Catherine would only see him on certain weekends, and she was jealous. Catherine was very possessive of their father.

"Daddy, you don't have to go until the afternoon," she said, pouting. "You're not needed until the feast!"

Caroline and Jason watched their father's face carefully, looking for the telltale signs that Catherine had preyed on his weaknesses, as she was so skilled at doing. As anticipated, their father's jaw twitched and his nostrils flared slightly as he took deep nasal breaths. This was often a sign that Catherine was going to get her way, and if their father closed his eyes for longer than the space of a blink, it would be a sure thing.

But no closing of the eyes occurred and Jason held his hand out under the table as their father petted Catherine's hair, the behavior that indicated that he was going to disappoint her and he hated doing it. Caroline frowned and dropped the previously arranged forfeit into his hand – one Morgana chocolate frog card. Jason's collection wasn't nearly as varied as Caroline's because that was the place where the baby of the family most regularly exercised her own powers of persuasion with their father.

Jason preferred to save his capital. If he never asked for things, when he did ask, their parents would be more inclined to give them to him. Since he didn't have Catherine's talent for pouting or Caroline's surprisingly forceful persuasiveness, Jason made do with the element of surprise.

"I'm sorry, Kitty-Cat. I've promised to be there by noon to help Uncle Remus with some specimens for the third years. Tell you what, how about I come back on the weekend and see you all for a bit?" He winked at them. "I think I can clear some room in my schedule this early in the term."

At this, all three children chorused their support of the plan, since visits from their father during the term meant gifts and sweets.

When their father kissed them all on the top of the head on his way out, pausing to give their mother a lingering kiss that Caroline gagged audibly at, Catherine held her eager, pleasant expression at his promise. As soon as he left the kitchen, however, her face fell to the disappointment she always exhibited when she lost at something. She kicked the bottom of the table in frustration and Jason tried not to laugh.

She would be a grouch all day, and Caroline and Jason would avoid her, but when she got over her loss, they would all move forward like nothing had happened.

/-/

Neville and Harry arranged their trunks with help from their parents, and then said their goodbyes, sitting down on either side of the compartment window, tense with nervous excitement.

"Lucky we found this one," Harry said, smiling as they ignored the whistle for last call. "I imagine most places are full by now."

"Yeah," Neville said. "What did you name your owl?"

"This is Hedwig," Harry said proudly, gesturing to the majestic snowy owl in the cage. "What did you name your cat, then?"

"This is Posy," Neville said, holding up his tabby, who was admittedly not impressed to be introduced. Neville had quickly learned that Posy wasn't impressed with much of anything, that was alright by him. "I was going to call her Trevor, but Mum pointed out she was a she."

The compartment door slid open and a red-haired boy with a bit of dirt on his nose, who reminded Neville of an older version of Damon Prewett, poked his head in and said, "Sorry, do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

Harry and Neville shook their heads, and the boy came in, thanking them for helping him with his trunk, and sitting down next to Harry, his long, gangly limbs seeming to sprawl even where he was sitting perfectly naturally.

"Ron Weasley," he said, and Neville nodded. Damon's cousin, then.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, "and this is Neville Longbottom."

Ron nodded in some recognition of their names before saying, "So, what's your Quidditch team?"

And a friendship was born.

/-/

Caroline continued the realphabetizing of her chocolate frog card collection, trying to decide what to do to earn back her card. She didn't need it, she had three Morgana's, but it was the principle of the thing.

"What do you think Daddy's going to bring us?" she said, hoping she sounded as innocent as possible, careful not to look up at her brother.

Jason snorted and said, "I'm not making another bet with you, Caro. Forget it."

Her lips twitched into a frown and she glanced out the window at the street below. Their mother didn't allow them to play by the street, as Muggle cars went by like mad, but if they could get Catherine to agree, their mother might take them to the park.

"We should figure out a reason for Kitty to play in the park."

"She won't, Caro."

"She might," Caroline said stubbornly.

"She's going to be sulking at least until dinnertime. We'll go tomorrow. Why don't you nick Mum's wand and I'll show you something cool in the library?"

At this promise, Caroline hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, where her mother was working on dinner – giving Kreacher some time off because he was ill – and Catherine was kicking her feet at the legs of the kitchen table petulantly. Caroline hugged her mother, asked if they could go to the park tomorrow if Catherine was feeling better, and as her mother answered that they would wait and see, Caroline expertly slipped the wand out of her mother's robe pocket and up her own sleeve.

Only too easy.

/-/

Ron was enjoying himself thoroughly with his new friends, talking about Quidditch and what House they thought they would be in, until the sweet trolley came around. Ron wished he could afford to get something, but he pulled out the sandwiches his mother had made, frowning to find that they were, inevitably, corned beef.

Neville and Harry glanced at the sandwiches and Ron cringed, knowing that they were either pitying him or judging him. What he wouldn't give to not be poor.

The other two boys bought a sizable amount of sweets between them, Harry pulling out enough galleons to buy up the whole cart and buying a few of just about everything on the cart. Ron glanced at the haul with interest, curiosity, and a bit of envy.

"Hungry, then?" he said, with forced nonchalance.

"A bit," Harry said with a shrug. "Breakfast was ages ago and my dad purposefully didn't pack me a lunch. He said eating sweets for lunch on the train is a rite of passage. Want some?"

Ron was sorely tempted, and he watched the other two boys dig in to their chocolate frogs. He tried a bite of his own corned beef sandwich, but it was terribly dry and salty. He frowned.

"Go on, then," Harry said, tossing a chocolate frog his way. "We've got plenty here to go around." He looked at the card and frowned. "Not another Dumbledore. Kitty managed to unload half her Dumbledores on me last week, did I tell you?"

Neville shook his head and asked, barely understandably through a mouth full of chocolate, how she'd done it. Ron was wondering who Kitty was, as Harry and Neville had both said they were only children.

"She had an extra Ptolemy," Harry said, "that she'd won off Caro in a bet. Have you seen Caro's collection? It's massive. Anyway, I didn't have a Ptolemy, but she didn't want to take anything of mine because, as she said, her collection is far superior." He snorted. "Anyway, the only way she would let me have it was if I took half her Dumbledores. Probably had a bet with Caro to see if she could get me to do it. So now I've got a dozen or so Dumbledores and no foreseeable way to offload any."

Neville nodded in understanding and sympathy, and Ron, trying to get back into the conversation, said, "Well, don't look at me, I've got about six of him. Who are Kitty and Caro, then?"

Harry and Neville exchanged a grin, and Harry said, "Have you heard any of your brothers talk about Professor Black?"

"Yeah, they say he's a laugh."

"He is," Harry said proudly. "He's my godfather. And Catherine and Caroline are two of his kids. We see each other a lot. Our family always has Christmas at his."

Ron felt uncomfortable that Harry was already friendly with some of the professors. What if that gave Harry an advantage in classes? Ron didn't know anybody but his own brothers, and they weren't likely to give him any breaks, especially not Percy.

"Right, game time," Harry said, breaking out a box of Every Flavour Beans. He pulled out a pale green bean with dark green flecks on it. "Any guesses?"

Neville leaned forward squinting at it.

"Sprouts?"

"Pear," Ron said, never having played this particular game before, but feeling mildly confident. He'd eaten a lot of jelly beans.

Harry held the bean up to the light and said, "I'll say…grass? Grass."

Very cautiously, he bit the edge of the bean and rubbed it between his front teeth to get the taste of it. His face blanched slightly.

"Sprouts," he declared, tossing a pack of Droobles at Neville, who beamed.

Ron was disappointed, but he leaned forward as Harry drew another bean out of the box. He was bound to get one of them right, and the more he won, the more sweets he could eat without feeling like he was taking charity from his new friends.

/-/

Aeson Lestrange, youngest of three, sat in his bedroom, eyes closed, lying back on his bed. He was trying to block out the sound of his sister's screams of unfairness. Adrasteia wanted to have a wand. As she'd been pointing out for nearly three hours, Harry Potter had a wand, so it was only fair that she and Catherine Black got wands, too.

Never mind that it wasn't legal for them to have wands before they got their Hogwarts letters, Aeson thought bitterly. But then, there was never any reasoning with them. It was definitely a female thing. Caroline Black was perhaps the worst of them all, and the worst part was, she had far more practice with simple magic than he had. The very thought that she would show up to school, in his year, and upstage him in any class was maddening, and Aeson's fingers formed fists.

For the briefest of moments, he agreed with his sister. The law was stupid.

/-/

The sweets were only half gone when the door slid open for a second time, this time with a familiar face in the fore. Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco Malfoy, who was accompanied by two very large boys Harry had never met before.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said, gesturing between the two rather brutish boys accompanying him. "And who's this, then?" He wrinkled his nose. "A Weasley?"

Harry's neck stiffened at the tone of Draco's voice, the kind of thing he regularly associated with Adrasteia at her worst, and he noticed that Ron's cheeks went pink, as they had done when he pulled out his squished sandwiches.

"Draco," Harry said coolly, "nobody's asking you to join us. I'd rather you didn't. I doubt there'd be room for all of us."

He looked pointedly at Crabbe, who had incredibly broad shoulders. Draco glanced around at the mound of sweets, and at Posy, who was taking up a seat all by herself, and he said, "You're probably right. See you at the castle."

Harry grunted his agreement, waiting for the compartment door to close again before rolling his eyes at Neville, who nodded his agreement. Draco had apparently recruited enforces already, and it seemed unlikely that they would all be spending much time together.

/-/

Damon watched his eldest sister, Rhea, comb her long, silky red hair, and he bit his lip. He wanted to ask her if she, like Ginny, was jealous of Ron going away to school.

He was jealous of Ron going away to school. He and his twin, Ourania, had ages before they would be able to go to Hogwarts. Rhea only had to wait a year.

"Are you and Ginny going to break into the broom shed tomorrow?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

"Probably."

"Can you get my fanged Frisbee? I hid it in there from Cora and I'd like it back."

Rhea flicked a ball of fuzz off her blanket and shrugged, which Damon took as a positive sign. He watched her set down the comb and shake back her locks, bored.

"I miss him too," he said, walking away before she could argue that she didn't. Ron was a bit of a goof, but he could be a lot of fun, and one less person around the Burrow was one less person to play with when their parents were at work.

/-/

When the steam engine arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the three boys followed instructions and disembarked, hearing that their things would be taken up to the castle for them, which Harry thought was nice.

He'd only met Hagrid a couple of times, but he recognized him instantly, towering over the heads of everyone on the platform, calling out for first years to follow him. When a gaggle of first year students did gather around him, he led them to the edge of a lake, where boats without oars were waiting.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called out, and the three boys climbed into a nearby boat.

A small girl with remarkably bushy brown hair sat in the boat with them, about to introduce herself when Hagrid tapped the edge of his own boat and the crafts all began to move. The girl shrieked with surprise, and Harry realized she must be Muggle-born.

Neville sat closest to her, and as they road across the lake, getting sight of the castle on the far bank, he leaned in and held out his hand.

"Neville Longbottom," he said.

"Hermione," she said, shaking his hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," Harry said. "And this is Ron Weasley."

Ron nodded his acknowledgement of the girl, but he was too busy looking at the water, trying to get a glimpse of something. Harry assumed it was the giant squid, which was notorious among those who had siblings or parents who liked to talk about the school. Harry leaned forward as well, hoping for the first glimpse of it.

Unfortunately, a girl squealed a few boats over, and that made her the first to sight the squid. The tentacle lazed above the surface, but did nothing of interest besides. A few boys at other boats sniggered at the girl's distress, but Harry simply found it interesting. Catherine and Caroline wouldn't have squealed at such a thing, and he doubted very much that Adrasteia would have, either. What kind of girl squealed at the sight of a squid tentacle?

The boats docked and Hagrid led the students up to the castle, to the front door, where they all stood on the front steps anxiously awaiting their first steps into the school. This would be home for seven years, Harry realized, stunned by this notion. The only place he ever thought of as home outside of Godric's Hollow was Selwyn Manor, and he only went there a month per year. He would be spending years of his life at his castle, not at home.

What a strange idea.

Hagrid raised one of his large hands and knocked slowly, steadily on the very large front door. Harry held his breath, and he noticed Hermione Granger bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet, perhaps for a better view, perhaps out of excitement.

The large doors creaked open, and behind them was a very severe looking woman, square spectacles on her nose, her hair drawn up in a bun.

"Firs' years," Hagrid said, gesturing to the students behind him.

"Very well, thank you, Hagrid," she said. "Follow me, everyone. Follow me."

The students did, following her into the entrance hall with gasps of wonder at the size of it, and Harry could feel his fingers tingle with excitement.

 **A/N: You guys are amazing! Everybody give Kiitsu another thank you, whose review of the last chapter put us at the 20 review mark this week! Still plenty of time to get to thirty…. ;)**

 **So, yes, I'm taking a lot of time with the early scenes. A lot of that is because it gives me an opportunity to introduce a LOT of characters thoroughly while they're still young. I'm not doing it this slow every year. As they get older, focuses shift.**

 **Review Prompt: Anyone going to be Sorted differently, d'you think? If you don't think so, where would you Sort the Black children right now?**

 **-C**


	4. The Sorting

Ron rubbed at the spot of dirt on his nose, the one the woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall had looked at as she told the students that they were going to be Sorted soon, and to make themselves presentable.

"I'm glad we just have to put on a hat," he said softly to Neville and Harry. Neville was straightening his robes, and Harry was trying to sort out his hair, which would just spring back up when he took his hand away. "My brother Fred was going on about having to fight a troll."

The other two gave him a sympathetic look. They must have had good information from their parents on the matter, which was perhaps a benefit of not having siblings. Ron had a feeling there were many benefits to being an only child, but both boys seemed jealous of his having so many siblings, so Ron didn't bring it up. He didn't want to appear ungrateful.

Hermione Granger was chattering on to anyone who would listen about all the things she'd read about Hogwarts, and Ron really wished she would shut up. The sound of her shrill voice was making him nauseous. Surely no one else had actually read their course books, much less extra books besides. Whatever house she ended up in, Ron prayed he'd be Sorted somewhere else.

Professor McGonagall returned to the room and said, "We are ready for you."

Ron's stomach dropped.

/-/

Ourania Prewett was jealous of her twin brother, not because he was a boy, but because he didn't have to share a bedroom. Cora wasn't so bad, as siblings went, but she did have a tendency to leave her things on Ourania's side of the room, and didn't put her clothes in the hamper until they started to pile up above the ankle level.

Although Ourania typically didn't care much for trying to learn spells – because she had enough patience to wait until it was legal – she did sometimes pull out her mother's household spells book and try to find something to get rid of the sickening smell of dirty socks from her sister's side of the bedroom.

Tonight was one of those nights where she stole a few sprigs of lavender from her mother's potions cupboard and stuck them in her pillow, burying her nose in her pillow to try to mask the stench. Perhaps she would complain again in the morning. Ourania didn't believe in tattling, but she had her own health and sanity to think of. Cora wouldn't take it personally like Damon might have done.

Until then, she closed her eyes, focused her thoughts on the scent of lavender, and counted the years until Cora went to school so she could have the room to herself.

/-/

Neville felt that he had done well at controlling his nerves throughout the day, but as the first years filed into the Great Hall and began to be called up for Sorting in front of the eyes of all the school, he felt the full force of his anxiety. He ignored the sweat pooling at his palms and focused on the hat, on each name as it was called forward, starting with "Abbott, Hannah" and "Bones, Susan" to Hufflepuff, and "Boot, Terry" to Ravenclaw, and on from there.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Some people took a very long time to be Sorted, like "Brown, Lavender" to Gryffindor, but others, like "Bulstrode, Millicent" to Slytherin were almost instantaneous.

"Corner, Michael!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Although Neville wasn't especially surprised that one of the large boys accompanying Draco was Sorted into Slytherin, he exchanged a glance with Harry. He could tell from the look on Harry's face that they were both certain that Draco would be in Slytherin as well, and they were almost certainly going to be split from him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville wondered if his would take a while. He didn't think he would manage well with sitting on that stool with everyone looking at him for too long. He really didn't like attention. Maybe he'd be lucky and the hat would just know where he belonged. Like "Goldstein, Anthony" being sorted into Ravenclaw, which was potentially the quickest one yet.

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Neville perked up at the name of the girl who had been in their boat, and he watched her bushy hair as she moved toward the front, as the hat was lowered onto her head. It seemed to deliberate for some time on her, and he wondered where it was considering. From the way she'd been talking earlier, he thought maybe Ravenclaw, but he wouldn't end up in Ravenclaw, he was sure of that.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron's face twitched at this, and Neville wondered why, but he didn't ask during the applause, because he didn't want to get caught speaking during the quiet after the applause.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

If he'd thought his palms were sweaty before, it was nothing to how soaked they were now. He nodded to Harry's smile of encouragement, and he moved to the front of the hall as quickly as possible, eager to get it over with. He looked nervously up at Professor McGonagall as he sat on the stool, and he gripped at the edges of the stool seat as she lowered the hat, attempting to dry his palms just a little bit without anyone seeing.

And when the hat touched his head, he could hear it speaking, which was startling.

"Let me see," the hat was saying, although no one else seemed to be able to hear it. "Let me see. Fiercely loyal, I see, like your mother. Hidden talents, of surprising strength. Ah, and an inner fire that would be very well-suited to Gryffindor, like your father. Ah, where to put you?"

Although Neville had long thought of himself as a Hufflepuff, he found himself wanting, wishing to be in Gryffindor. Harry was sure to be in Gryffindor, and Ron mentioned his whole family was in Gryffindor, which was a decent indicator. Plus, Hermione Granger had seemed rather nice, and she'd just been sorted there.

"Gryffindor, eh?" the hat said in his head, and Neville realized it was reading his current thoughts. "Yes, a good option indeed. Well, people often flourish where their friends are. GRYFFINDOR!"

As the hat roared the last word, the hall broke out in applause, and he realized he'd been sorted. He made his way to the Gryffindor table on wobbly legs, and he sat down beside Seamus Finnigan, across the table from Hermione Granger. He was only vaguely aware that the Sorting had continued.

"MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Neville blinked, trying to perk up as the blond boy swaggered forward and sat on the stool. The hat barely touched his sleek hair before screaming out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco looked very pleased with himself as he crossed to the Slytherin table, and Neville clapped politely.

"MacMillan, Ernie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Nott, Theodore!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Neville licked his lips. Harry had to be coming soon. He craned his neck to get a better look at his friend, although the ranks had thinned considerably. Harry smiled at him as "Parkinson, Pansy" was sorted to Slytherin.

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville began to chew on his lower lip. How could there be so many 'p' names in one year? Surely it had to be some kind of a record. There was hardly anybody left now. "Perks, Sally-Anne" was sorted to Gryffindor, and Neville was about to despair that everyone but Ron still standing must have a 'p' name, but then the end was in sight.

"Potter, Harry!"

Sitting up a bit straighter, Neville watched his best friend walk to the front of the hall and confidently sit on the stool, smiling at Professors Black and Lupin where they sat, grinning, at the Head Table. Neville wiped his palms on his pants.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, and Neville joined in enthusiastically, ushering Harry to sit beside him at the table, giving him a high five. They weren't going to be separated, which Neville realized had been his greatest fear about starting school.

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Harry leaned in and whispered, "I think this one's him," just as Professor McGonagall announced that the next to be sorted was, indeed, "Weasley, Ronald!"

Several redheads at the table sat a bit straighter, craning their next for a better look at what was almost certainly their brother. Neville and Harry, as well, were anxiously awaiting.

They didn't have to wait long. Ron's Sorting to Gryffindor was on the shorter side, and soon he'd taken his place at the Gryffindor table, accepting his congratulations from both Harry and Neville as "Zabini, Blaise" was sorted to Slytherin.

They were all together, Neville thought proudly, and whatever happened for the next seven years, at least he knew he would have friends nearby.

/-/

Lily came home after a long afternoon working with Damocles and almost felt concern when only James was setting the table for dinner, with no Harry. It took her a moment to remind herself that only hours ago, they'd taken Harry to London to go to Hogwarts. He was probably at the feast right at that moment, making friends, enjoying school.

"You alright, love?" James asked, smiling at her. "Quiet, isn't it?"

"Mmm."

She set down her satchel and thanked him when he handed her a cup of tea. They were, in a sense, empty-nesters. Harry would be with them at Christmas, and perhaps Easter, if he wanted, but really she wouldn't see him hardly at all until June.

She and James had not had very long at all alone together before Harry came along, and with the war on it wasn't what anyone would call a normal married life. Now, they had time. They could be a normal couple without a child around to come between them.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to her.

"James," she said, smiling, amused when he raised a questioning eyebrow, "I think dinner can wait, don't you?"

He frowned in confusion for a moment before she set down her tea and began unbuttoning her cardigan. His eyes widened with understanding and he quickly dropped what he was doing, hurrying across the room and taking her by the hand, marching her to the bedroom as she laughed.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Harry being away at school.

/-/

At the end of dessert, Professor Dumbledore stood, spoke, and welcomed them all to Hogwarts. He gave a rundown of rules, basic things like no magic in the corridors and not going into the Forbidden Forest. Harry listened, but he didn't bother paying too much attention.

Rules, his mother had told him, were important, but as his father and Uncle Sirius said, they were flexible.

It was important to know the rules, but only in-so-far as to know where to bend and where to break them, and where they were best left alone. Harry would ponder each rule more thoroughly throughout the first week, decide how each one fell into various categories. For now, he was focusing on enjoying the feeling of fullness and fellowship he was experiencing.

When students were dismissed, first years were supposed to pause, wait for the chaos to file out quickly, and then they were led to their dormitories by a Prefect.

This one happened to be Ron's brother, Percy. Harry decided very quickly that Percy was nothing at all like Ron. He seemed very self-important, and he puffed out his chest as he led the students out of the hall, up the marble staircase after the Ravenclaw students. Harry noted that the Slytherins were splitting away, going downstairs.

Percy pointed out various things as they went, and Harry realized that the Slytherin students were heading toward the dungeons, where apparently Professor Snape held Potions. Harry thought it would be sort of cool to have class in a dungeon, but he wasn't fond of the idea of sleeping near one. Or in one, perhaps. Maybe the Slytherin dormitories were a converted dungeon.

They kept going up, up, up in the castle, and Percy said something about Gryffindor being in a Tower, which seemed fine to Harry. He liked views and heights, and it would be very interesting, having a view of something of the grounds from his dormitory window.

They arrived at a portrait, where a fat lady in pink silk sat primly. She looked down her nose at them and said, "Password?"

" _Caput Draconis_ ," Percy said, slowly and clearly for them all to hear. Harry realized that if they didn't learn and memorize the passwords, they wouldn't get into the dormitory. He would have to make a point of being with or reminding Neville of the passwords frequently, as Neville's memory could be something of a sieve.

The portrait swung open, and a couple of the girls gasped at the sight of the common room, which was warm, all in scarlet and gold, with a roaring fireplace with armchairs around it in one corner, a notice board currently empty in the other corner. Between the two were tables, chairs, and a sofa, surrounded by windows and cozy walls. On the far side of the common room from the portrait hole were two staircases, and Percy gestured to them.

"First years are the closest to the common room," he said. "Boys are up the stairs on the left, girls up the stairs on the right. You'll find the year on the door in case you lose track of how many landings you've gone, and you will find that all of your belongings are already in your dormitories. Schedules will be passed out in the morning at breakfast, so get ready in a timely manner. Professor McGonagall does not approve of dawdling."

Harry didn't expect that Professor McGonagall approved of a great many things, and he thought briefly that he wished they had a more forgiving head of house. Still, she'd been the Transfiguration professor when his parents were in school, and they'd both come through it alright, so Harry was confident that he could manage as well.

The boys went up to their room, and Harry moved his trunk to claim the bed between Ron and Neville, on the right of the room. Seamus and Dean claimed the two beds on the far left, with Dean Thomas between Neville and Seamus.

"Merlin," Dean said, looking around. "It's really nice in here. I wanted to put up posters and things, but I'm just too tired. That feast really zaps it out of you."

The other boys all murmured their assent. The feast was so filling, that combined with the anxiety and adrenaline of the Sorting wearing off, they were all ready to fall into bed and not wake up again for years. But given they were going to have to start classes in the morning, it seemed only right to go to bed sooner rather than later.

"Good night, Harry," Neville said, smiling.

"Night, Neville."

Harry set his glasses on the bedside table, quickly changed into pajamas, and crawled under the sheets quickly, reveling in their coolness as his heavy eyes closed.

/-/

Hermione Granger took the bed closest to the window, climbing into it and looking up at the scarlet curtains that she had yet to pull around her. She was so excited that she could scarcely breathe. At dinner, she had learned that she was the only Muggle-born in her year in Gryffindor, although Lavender, Dean, and Seamus all had a Muggle parent, and so were familiar with Muggle culture. Dean was a football fan, he told her at the feast, although his father really didn't see the merit in the sport. He'd been telling her all about how avidly he supported West Ham United (which she didn't know anything about, but nodded politely just the same), and he also supported Pride of Portree, which was apparently a Quidditch team. Dean had also tried to explain Quidditch to Hermione, but she understood less about it than she did about football.

Lavender had read some of the same books as a child that Hermione had, but that was mostly where their similarities ended. The girl was nice enough, but she seemed more interested in her hair than she did in school. Hermione knew this was not uncommon with girls their age, as she'd known a fair few of them in primary school, but Parvati and Lavender seemed cut from the same cloth.

Hermione rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, although too excited still to sleep. In the morning, she would get to start classes, learn magic, and know what it meant to be a witch at last. Although she knew her parents would never fully understand the magical world, just as some of the students she'd met clearly didn't understand her parents' world, she knew that they would be proud of the things they could understand, marks and academic accomplishments. If she could get top marks, if she could top anything at all, surely they would be proud of her and know that she was where she belonged. The last thing she wanted was for them to worry because they didn't understand anything she did.

As a precocious only child, Hermione had never done anything that hadn't made her parents proud, but all of her accomplishments were things they could see, things they could understand, even the bursts of accidental magic that had occurred throughout her childhood. Even when they couldn't explain it, they could see it and know it was to do with their daughter, and they could be proud of her no matter what strangeness came with loving her.

Now they had a word for all that strangeness, and she hoped to very soon start adding accomplishments to that word so that it wasn't something they were afraid of or nervous of, but something they could think on with pride.

 **A/N: Everybody say thank you to my dear friend,** _ **Missing Triforce**_ **, whose reviews have given us a THIRD bonus chapter this week. A record. And there's still a few days to go for a fourth! ;)**

 **So, all are Sorted in this round. I've made a few tweaks, but not to who goes where. I've also lingered a bit on some of our secondary characters. They're about to start their classes. I promise it won't move this slowly every year…**

 **Review Prompt: Who can spot the biggest change I made in this section, and what d'you think of it?**

 **-C**


	5. Professor Black

The five Gryffindor first year boys went down to breakfast all together after showering, dressing in their robes, and getting together all their books, just in case of whatever they had on the first day's schedule. They sat in a cluster at the Gryffindor table, and Harry made himself some toast with marmalade, feeling a rush of excitement as he spread the marmalade over his bread.

"What have we got today?" he asked Neville, who was looking over the timetable Professor McGonagall had given him.

"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs," he said. "And then Charms, and History of Magic after lunch."

Harry grinned. He would get to see Uncle Sirius in action today. He picked up his own schedule and saw that he didn't have Defense until the next morning, and Potions wasn't until Friday mornings.

"Potions with the Slytherins," he said.

That meant they would be with Draco for one thing, at least.

Ron scratched his head and said, "How do they fit all the classes in?"

"Hmm?"

"The professors. How do they fit all the classes in? I mean, there aren't so many classes with two Houses, and Fred and George said third year has a lot of Potions. Where does it all fit?"

"Uncle Sirius said that some of the teachers have to do the occasional weekend class for older students," Harry said, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. "I know Professor Flitwick teaches on weekends, and Uncle Remus teaches NEWT students on Saturdays as well."

"I heard the NEWT students have a lot of weekend classes," Neville said, "but most of the week is free. Like one girl was saying when she got her schedule that she's got Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts on Saturdays, but she's only got two hours of class during the week, and the rest is empty for studying."

At this thought, Ron blanched, and Harry knew what he was thinking. If that much free time was given for studying, how much was there to study?

"Cheer up," Harry said, passing Ron the pumpkin juice. "We've got ages until seventh year. With any luck, we'll only need a couple of classes, so we'll have plenty of free time left over."

It wasn't Harry's best motivational speech, but Ron seemed to find it comforting enough to eat, anyway.

/-/

Cara reread the first of daily letters from Sirius with a bittersweet feeling in her chest as she stirred her tea. Harry and Neville Longbottom were both Sorted into Gryffindor, and Draco was put in Slytherin. She could tell by the handwriting and the tone that Sirius was very excited to have his two godsons at the school with him, even if Draco wasn't his favorite of the many children in their lives.

Sirius being away at Hogwarts was always difficult for Cara, not because she couldn't manage the children, but because she missed him terribly. She knew he was excellent at his job, that he loved it, that it was good for him to have something to do. But she couldn't help but feel cold when he wasn't with her in bed at night, and feel a bit exhausted when Catherine went on a rampage and her father wasn't around to deal with it.

Kreacher was a help, but there was only so much he could do to control the children in his old age, and Phineas Nigellus could only watch them in rooms with portraits, when he wasn't needed at Hogwarts. Cara also suspected that he was immensely pleased with how devious and talented Caroline was, and that he didn't perhaps report everything he saw the youngest child doing. When she broke big rules, he always told Cara, but little things like stealing her mother's wand to make sparks or things of that sort he likely encouraged her in rather than reporting.

Things were easier when Sirius was home, but the letters helped.

/-/

Taking role was painfully boring for Ron, who already knew he was going to be the last name on the list for every course except Potions with the Slytherins. He kept himself occupied by trying to memorize the faces of the Hufflepuffs, since it would be harder to keep track of people he didn't see every day.

Herbology would be three times a week, Professor Sprout informed them, two mornings and once in the afternoon.

"We'll be in Greenhouse One for most of the year," she told them, "as you will be getting used to the methods we use to recognize and care for plants. If you show promise, we may get to spend time in Greenhouse Three as early as the beginning of second year, but if you don't show me that you are capable of responsibility, that will be a much longer wait."

Everyone understood the importance of showing Professor Sprout that they could be a responsible class. They had peeked into Greenhouse Three on the way to class, and all kinds of dangerous and interesting plants were inside, including Venemous Tentacula. Ron didn't want to spend longer than necessary pruning plants that didn't do anything interesting.

"I wonder what's in Greenhouse Two," Harry said as they separated into groups of four to draw the Flutterby Bushes in the corner.

"Professor Sprout told me that's where the rarest plants are kept," Hermione Granger said, pulling out her quill to create the diagram. "Things that only the NEWT students get to work with because they're especially delicate, or dangerous, or rare."

Neville's eyebrows raised with interest, and he looked in the direction of Greenhouse Two, although he couldn't see it from inside Greenhouse One. Ron wondered if Neville was already plotting a way to become a NEWT Herbology student, so eager he looked to see those plants.

Ron broke two quill points trying to get the correct angles on his Flutterby Bush diagram, and Harry finally loaned him a better quill to finish his work, but even so, he didn't have enough time to finish.

Professor Sprout clicked her tongue and said, "You'll have to finish from your book."

And so Ron Weasley already had homework, and it wasn't even lunchtime of his first day.

/-/

Neville's grandmother was firmly opposed to Charms, although his father had told him it was because she'd never been very good at Charms. Neville was determined to do well in the course. That way, she couldn't accuse him of any weaknesses, and he would always have one up on her.

The most peculiar thing about Charms thus far, however, was nothing to do with the content, but everything to do with the teacher.

Professor Flitwick was an incredibly tiny man, and there were rumors that he was part goblin, or part elf. Neville really didn't care either way, but he was leaning toward elf. Professor Flitwick was too cheerful and bubbly to have any significant portion of goblin in him.

He was the head of Ravenclaw house, and he had to stand on a very large stack of books to see them, and Neville felt that this position was rather precarious. He was certain that at some point in the course of Charms study, something terrible would happen to the tiny professor, whose books could be toppled with alarming accidental ease.

Neville only hoped it wasn't he who caused the disaster.

/-/

Lunch after the first morning of classes, Remus sat down beside Sirius, who was already having a conversation with Severus about their mornings. From what he gathered while pouring himself some water, Sirius had met the first year Hufflepuffs, re-communed with his third year Ravenclaws, and put the fear of the OWLs into his fifth year Gryffindors.

"I had an hour to marvel at how little my second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs retained," Severus said in his bored, languid voice, "and then another hour to do the same with the second year Gryffindors and Slytherins. In between I had the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, and they had a nasty shock at the five-foot essay they have to write, due Friday morning."

Remus chuckled picking up a couple of deviled ham sandwiches and putting them delicately on his plate.

"How was your morning, then, Remus?" Sirius asked, winking.

"I got to load a large amount of homework on my sixth year students first thing in the morning," Remus said, smiling, "and I welcomed back my Ravenclaw and Slytherin second years, and then I got to impress upon the fifth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins how serious the OWL year would be. I thought one of the girls was going to faint when she heard the study schedule expectations."

"I get Harry this afternoon," Sirius said proudly over Severus's snort. "Right after lunch."

"Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years have an hour with me Tuesday mornings," Remus said, excited to finally be teaching the child of one of his best friends. Next year he would have Catherine in classes as well, and it would be interesting to compare. He was the judge in the bet between Sirius and James over which of their children was smartest, between Harry and Catherine, anyway. "I've got Gryffindor and Hufflepuff second years after lunch. Severus, could you pass the sprouts?"

"I have the privilege of striking fear in the hearts of those sixth years next," Severus said, checking his watch. "As a matter of fact, I should set up."

"You only just got here," Sirius said, frowning. "You're going to work yourself into the ground again, Severus."

The Potions Master just waved a dismissive hand at Sirius's very reasonable concerns and took off for his dungeon, where he would be arranging ingredients and writing the instructions on the board.

Remus shook his head as Sirius helped himself to two more sandwiches. If someone had told him in school that one day Sirius and Severus would be able to sit down to a meal together and banter like old friends, he would have thought the person had consumed a bit too much bauble juice.

And yet here they were, having lunch, enjoying themselves, and worrying about the extremes to which Severus Snape pushed his health as though they'd all been friends all of their lives.

/-/

Ron had to admit, Harry's godfather, Professor Black, was a very interesting teacher. He walked into the class first thing after lunch, dropped the textbook on his desk with a thud, and sat next to the book, on the edge of his desk.

"Right," he said. "Attendance. Anyone not here who should be?"

The Gryffindor first years blinked up at this professor, someone revered in pureblood circles and notoriously one of the richest men in Europe. Ron noticed Lavender and Parvati in the corner rapidly passing notes back and forth, presumably continuing their lunchtime conversation about how attractive this professor was.

"No, sir," Harry said, smirking. "All here."

Professor Black rapidly counted heads, nodded, and tossed aside the scroll.

"Good enough for me," he said. "Welcome to History of Magic. If you want war stories, you'll get war stories. Ladies, if you're interested in romance, we've got plenty of romance. If you want political intrigue," he grinned, "you'll likely be sick of the muddled mess of politicians by the time you can finally drop this class. I recognize that most of you won't need my class for your future careers, but you have to take five years of me, and some of you may find this class useful or even necessary. A lot of Ministry careers, for example, or jobs in journalism and publishing typically want at least an Exceeds Expectations on the OWL, and there are a few jobs that want NEWT scores. So for the next five or more years, I want you to enjoy yourselves as much as possible. You work hard, I keep the class fun. If you lot don't bother to work hard and try to learn the material I so kindly keep interesting for you," he added, his smile falling in a chilling instant as he glanced at the gossiping girls in the corner, waving his wand to vanish their note as it was changing hands. They looked up at him, astonished and embarrassed, and he smiled what Ron could only call a sneer. "If you don't try, then I will present the facts in a way that is not fun, I might assign extra homework, and I will hold you to the same level of expectation for how much you should learn. Are we understood?"

The whole class nodded, and Ron was silently lamenting that this course was only twice a week as he pulled out his quill as Professor Black told the students to take notes.

/-/

At the end of their first History of Magic lesson, there was a brief break in lessons. The Gryffindor first years were done for the day, but Harry knew that Uncle Sirius had another two lessons.

"Harry," he said, smiling, gesturing for Harry to sit. "I've got the second year Ravenclaws coming in soon. How was your first day?"

"It was fine," Harry said with a shrug. "I don't think Herbology is going to be my thing."

"Your dad said the same thing on the first day of our classes, years ago," Uncle Sirius said, smiling, scratching his cheek. "He managed to get an Exceeds Expectations on the OWL anyway. Might have gotten an Outstanding if he hadn't spent most of that class in fifth year trying to chat up your mum."

Harry smiled, and Uncle Sirius pulled out notes, probably for his lecture for the Ravenclaws.

Uncle Sirius said, "If you and your friends want, Remus and I thought we might take you to get to know Hagrid later in the week. I don't recommend his cooking, but the tea's not bad, and the company is first rate."

Harry said he would like that very much, and that he was pretty sure Ron and Neville would as well. The bell rang for the end of break, and Harry left Uncle Sirius for his next class, hurrying off to put his books away before dinner. History was thus far the bright spot in his schedule, but the class he was most excited for would be in the morning.

/-/

The Prewett brothers packed up their desks at the end of the day, a day filled with completing boring reports and not fighting Dark wizards. In their youth, the pair would have hated that this was what being an Auror turned out to be, but after their years in the Order, after the years after the war chasing down and punishing the last remnants of Voldemort supporters, Fabian and Gideon really relished the quietness the job now entailed nine days out of ten.

"D'you want to come over for dinner?" Fabian asked. "Dorcas said she was getting some curry on the way home."

Normally, Gideon would jump at this, and Fabian would send a note to Dorcas to pick up extra, but today Fabian's brother shook his head.

"Molly wants me to have dinner with them. I think she's lonely, you know. Arthur's working late nights all week, and all she's got at home now is Ginny."

Fabian nodded. Their nephew, Ron, would be finishing his first day at Hogwarts today, and with any luck they'd be hearing about it from someone.

"Keep me updated if you hear from Hogwarts, then," Fabian said. "Hey, did you do the form on the break-in in Doncaster, or did you put it in my stack?"

"I stuck it at the bottom of your stack. I figured you wouldn't notice until it was too late to pawn it off on me again."

Fabian grinned at his brother's honesty and shook his head.

"Right, I'm headed home, then."

Gideon nodded, moving around some papers, looking for his ink well.

"Give my love to Dorcas and the kids, will you?"

"Yeah."

Fabian left the office feeling a swelling of pride in his chest. He not only convinced the woman he loved to marry him after the war – and it was miracle that they even survived that far, much less married – but they'd had four beautiful children together. Fabian had wanted more, but once Dorcas had the twins she said that was it. She wasn't risking having any more multiples, and Fabian had to respect that. After all, he wasn't the one carrying them around for nine months, and she'd definitely had a harder time with the twins than she had with Rhea or Cora.

The scariest thing about being a father, though, was knowing how fast they were all growing up. Next year it would be his oldest finishing a first day as a Hogwarts student, his Rhea gone for most of the year, for the first of seven years, and Rhea was only the beginning. Fabian was proud of his children, pleased with his children, but he wanted to freeze them where they were, to keep them young and sweet and adoring of him. Someday he would disappoint them, or they would disappoint him, and Fabian's greatest fear was that whatever caused the disappointment, one side or both would find it impossible to repair that trust and pride.

He'd seen enough ruined families that this seemed a very real possibility.

Fabian pressed the elevator button for the Atrium and rubbed his forehead absently. The things Dorcas knew, the things she'd seen during the war…. Well, Sirius Black was the ultimate example of an estranged child, but Fabian knew that even when Sirius went back to his family, the wounds were still very strong. Dorcas never told Fabian what she knew about Sirius, what she'd seen him do, but Fabian sometimes got a chill down his spine when he saw Sirius when the other man thought he was alone. There was a strange expression Sirius would get, staring at nothing, like he'd dropped a mask and all the horrors and grotesque things from the war were right in front of him, and he was simply staring back at them, no longer affected by the things he'd seen and done.

Fabian loved Sirius like a brother, respected him and trusted him and could laugh with him and drink with him and go to Quidditch matches with him, but Fabian was terrified of Sirius Black, and he believed that any sane person ought to be, just a little bit.

 **A/N: Everybody say thank you to** _ **The Touch of Love**_ **, whose morning review streak has earned us a record-breaking FOURTH bonus chapter this week! And if y'all keep things rolling, we could be in for a fifth…**

 **Review Prompt: Who would you rather have as a teacher, Remus or Sirius? Not by what they teach, but them as teachers.**

 **-C**


	6. The Remembrall

Ron had to admit, History and Defense were easily the best classes they had done thus far, and Professor Black and Professor Lupin both seemed committed to making their courses as fun as possible. Wednesday morning, however, another course was added to the timetable that could prove to be the most exciting of all.

"Flying," Ron said, pointing at the notice pinned up on the board. "First year flying, Gryffindor on Thursday afternoons! That's why our schedule on Thursday looked so empty."

The only thing on the Thursday block on their timetables thus far had been morning slots of Charms and Transfiguration, with the rest of the day off lessons.

"Wicked," Harry said, grinning. "Draco will finally have to prove if he's any good. He always finds a way to weasel out of flying with Kitty or me around. Oh, don't look like that, Neville. It won't be so bad. They have to keep it basic. Think of all the Muggle-borns who have no idea how to use a broom."

Ron hadn't realized that Neville had gone pale until he looked up and saw his friend's sick-looking face. Apparently, Neville didn't like to fly, which Ron didn't understand, but he supposed that if he didn't like doing something, the last thing he would want was to do it in front of half their year.

/-/

Brontes Lestrange and his cousin, Jason Black, walked about the Lestrange Manor grounds, avoiding their elder sisters and younger siblings. The older girls were pouting that they weren't at Hogwarts when Harry and Draco were, and the younger two were squabbling over who could turn a teacup a deeper shade of purple with Aunt Cara's pilfered wand.

"She must never do magic," Brontes said, hands in his pockets as they passed the fountain in the back gardens.

"What?"

"Your mother. She must never do magic. It seems like one of you always has her wand."

Jason shrugged, his jaw twitching like his fathers did when he was irritated. Uncle Sirius was often irritated at pureblood events.

Brontes knew that Aunt Cara was incredibly weak where her magic was concerned. She could do some basic charms, but they weren't very powerful and they didn't last very long. Brontes could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen his aunt perform a spell, but his father told him not to mention it. His father was very fond of his sister, regardless of her lack of magical skill, and Brontes had to admit that he thought Aunt Cara was refreshingly uncomplicated. This was the trait he appreciated the most in his aunt and uncle, and their son. He only wished Jason's sisters shared this trait.

"How long until Adra and Kitty find something else to pout about?" Brontes wondered out loud.

Jason closed his eyes, sighed, and then said, "Merlin, let it be soon."

/-/

Harry, Neville, and Ron spent lunch on Thursday trying to play it cool before their first flying lesson, but all three boys were anxious about it, for different reasons. Harry tried to not notice Neville's near paranoia, knowing it would probably only cause his friend to hyperventilate to know that Harry was trying to avoid a crisis.

"I wish she'd shut up," Ron grumbled to Harry as he glanced over at Hermione Granger.

Hermione, it seemed, had taken it upon herself during their free Wednesday afternoon to hole herself up in the library and read everything they had on the theory of flying a broomstick. She was now regurgitating much of this information to Neville, who was hanging on her every word, desperate to learn something that might help him stay on his broom.

Harry shrugged and tried not to wince at the pair of them. It was likely that Hermione's behavior was a mask for her own anxieties about flying, which wouldn't be so unusual. After all, she'd never been on a broom before, as a Muggle-born. Harry wanted to tell her that it just wasn't the sort of thing she could learn from a book, but he decided it wasn't worth risking making both Neville and Hermione even more frantic than they already were.

/-/

Pouring his sister a cup of tea, Rabastan smiled tightly.

"It's a lot of work," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I feel like everything's so much worse this year. Kitty's not shut up about not having everything Harry has since Sirius left, and the older Caro gets the harder she is to manage. Mercifully, Jason seems to have a fairly placid disposition."

"He's a good kid," Rabastan said, passing Cara her tea, his lips twitching as she murmured thanks. "They're all good kids, Cara. Catherine's just…trying to find herself. And Caroline is a lot like her father, actually. If you think she's bad, you should see Aeson. Every other word out of his mouth is about something he does better than Caro."

"I can't tell if they're worse together or apart."

"Does she have your wand again?"

"Of course," Cara said with a smirk.

Rabastan laughed. Caroline was quite a bit like a young Sirius Black, although Cara was much more perceptive than Walburga had ever been, perhaps closer to Orion, who saw everything and said nothing. Cara let her children get away with a great deal, as long as they were being safe.

He asked his sister, as they casually enjoyed their tea, if she'd thought about getting another house-elf to supplement for Kreacher.

"We're going to get the Crouch elf when Barty dies," she said, frowning. "Granted, no one wants to benefit from illness, but he's not been right since his wife past. And we've got the Selwyn elf. But with two properties, it only makes sense to have one at each property."

Rabastan hummed his understanding, but he was already thinking about how to guarantee that the Blacks had enough elves to serve their needs in future. With three children, they needed to breed their elves. The Crouch elf was female, if he remembered right, and although Kreacher was getting a bit old to sire any children, it was possible they could breed the Crouch elf with the Selwyn elf a few times.

He would have a word with Sirius about it at Christmas.

"We should probably round up our children before Caroline accidentally burns down the library," Rabastan teased, setting down his empty up and extending a hand to his sister to help her to her feet. When they were standing together, he kissed her cheek gently.

Never had he imagined his life turning out this way, but Rabastan had no complaints. He was no doubt more comfortable now than he ever would have been without Bellatrix enacting her manipulation of Sirius and Cara.

/-/

Neville felt nauseous, standing on the Hogwarts lawn, looking at the brooms all lined up in a row on the ground.

Madam Hooch stepped forward, welcoming them to their first flying lesson. Neville wondered what she would do if he just ran away, or maybe if he vomited. If he vomited, right there and then, surely she would excuse him from lessons. Maybe he could get his mother to sign something, say he was allergic to broomsticks.

"Everybody take a step up to any of the brooms."

Neville stood on one side of Harry, with Ron on the other side of Harry, and Draco across from Harry, smirking. Why was he always smirking? Was he smirking at Harry because they were being silly and competitive with each other, or was he smirking at Neville because Neville looked greener than the sprouts at lunch?

Did it matter either way?

"Now, hold your hand over your broom and say, firmly, 'up!'"

"UP!"

Harry's broom soared into his hand, and Draco's wasn't far behind. Ron's took a couple of tries. Neville's quivered on the ground, as if sensing where Neville wanted to stay, but he was comforted when his finally quivered up into his hand while Hermione's was rolling around on the ground, to her consternation.

When they were all finally holding their brooms, Madam Hooch explained how they were supposed to mount their brooms, showing them what to do.

"On my whistle, you will kick off hard from the ground, raise two feet from the ground, hover for several moments, and then tilt your brooms down again to come to the ground. Ready?"

At the sound of the whistle, Neville kicked off with the others, but perhaps he was holding on too tightly, because instead of stopping at two feet, it continued to rise, and as Harry tried to grab his feet to pull him down, Neville made the mistake of leaning low to the broomstick, which shot forward into a nearby tree.

He felt himself slip from the broom, but was unconscious before he reached the ground.

/-/

For the third time that week, Narcissa went down to the dining room expecting to find Draco waiting impatiently for dinner, but she felt her chest deflate slightly at the reminder that he was away at school, and she wouldn't see him until Christmastime. Sirius had written to tell her that Draco was an attentive and capable student, and Severus had written that Draco showed some initial aptitude in Potions, but she didn't really care.

She wanted him back at home, wanted to see him. What good was education if she didn't have him around?

Still, Lucius was quite pleased that Draco had started off so well, and had made a point of bragging about it last night at dinner to Rabastan and his wife Delia, who had come around with their children to try to alleviate some of Narcissa's loneliness.

But they were not her son, and she was wondering if she'd made a mistake in only having the one child, difficult as it was to have him.

/-/

After Madam Hooch warned the first years that they were not to fly while she was away on pain of expulsion, she levitated an unconscious Neville in front of her on a stretcher she conjured, taking him to the hospital wing. Presumably he would be fine once Madam Pomfrey had a moment to fix him up, but a few students were a bit uncomfortable after the incident in question.

"I don't think I want to fly after all," Harry heard Hermione whisper to Dean, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

Harry caught a glimpse of something very shiny in the corner of his eye, something being hit by the late afternoon sun at just the right angle. It took him a moment to realize that it was in the tree, but it didn't make much sense for something shiny to be in the tree.

"What's that?" he asked Ron and Draco.

"What?" Ron asked, squinting in the direction Harry was pointing, but clearly seeing nothing.

"The thing shining in the tree," Harry said.

"I see it," Draco said, mounting his broom as Hermione spluttered that he wasn't supposed to do that. He ignored her, kicking off and flying smoothly to the tree where Neville had impacted a branch and fallen unconscious. He hovered by the tree, picking up something small and circular, holding it up. "Remembrall," he called.

"Ah, that's Neville's," Harry said, frowning. "His Gran sent it as a gift for getting Sorted into Gryffindor."

"Are you sure that was what it was for?" Draco said, smirking, tossing the small glass ball between his hands, back and forth. "He's a bit daft when it comes to remembering things."

Harry sighed. While it wasn't exactly untrue, it was a particularly unkind way of putting it, and rather unnecessary.

"Just bring it down, will you?"

"Nah, you should come up and get it," Draco challenged.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "No, you'll be expelled. You'll lose points for Gryffindor. It's a terrible idea."

Harry hesitated. She was right about losing points, and Madam Hooch had expressly mentioned expulsion. But it wasn't like with some of the other students. Harry knew how to fly, and he also knew Draco would likely do something stupid and break the Remembrall if he didn't play along. Neville had been so pleased to get it, it would be a terrible way to cap off what had been a bad day for the poor boy.

"Catherine would do it, but I guess you're too afraid of losing points," Draco scoffed.

That did it. Harry mounted his broom and kicked off in a flash, following Draco up into the air, charging him, hoping to grab the Remembrall out of his hand and swerve back around to land before Madam Hooch could come back or see him out of a window or something. There were so many castle windows.

Naturally, Draco did something stupid, laughing at Harry's plan and throwing the Remembrall, throwing it in the other direction, with quite a bit of force. Harry nudged the poor school broom in the changed direction and was surprised that it responded so readily, and he dove sharply. He caught the Remembrall about a foot and a half from hitting the ground and he pulled up to a safe height before executing a smooth landing, raising an eyebrow at Draco's disappointed face.

"Lucky catch," Draco said with a sneer.

It was a bit of a lucky catch, Harry thought.

"Harry Potter!" a shrill, breathless voice called across the grass, and he felt his stomach drop as he turned to see Professor McGonagall hurrying out to him. "Come with me this instant!"

Draco's sneer had turned to a look of elation. Harry was going to get in trouble for certain.

/-/

Lucius tried to ignore that his wife was lonely, but it was inevitable that he should run into her when he least expected to, wandering about the house, frowning at something of Draco's left out. He would have to invite the Blacks over, or perhaps the Lestranges again, or maybe all at once. Filling the social calendar seemed the only remedy to her current state of melancholy, since Draco had to be at school.

/-/

Harry was puzzled when Professor McGonagall walked him past the door into the castle, out to the Greenhouses, where she opened the door to Greenhouse Three.

Was she going to punish him by feeding one of his body parts to a Venemous Tentacula?

As crazy as the thought was, it was the only reasoning that seemed logical to Harry, whose hands were trembling with the strangeness of the whole situation.

"Professor Sprout," Professor McGonagall said, "May I borrow Wood for a moment, please?"

Wood? Who was wood? Or was it something made of wood? They were at the Greenhouses, after all.

However, a few moments later a burly fifth year walked out of the greenhouse and blinked at Harry, just as puzzled as Harry was. Professor McGonagall was absolutely beaming and she said, "Wood, I think I've found you a Seeker."

Harry's jaw dropped. Wood's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious?" Wood cried, grinning. He looked at Harry, up and down, and he said, "He's got the right build for it."

Harry was flattered by this, but he was a bit puzzled. First years weren't allowed to play Quidditch.

"You should have seen the catch I just watched him make. It was during a perfectly executed dive. I'm telling you, Wood, we'll win the Cup this year for sure. I just have to arrange it with Dumbledore."

Wood eagerly began talking about getting him a broom, which Professor McGonagall waved off, saying she would contact his parents that very night and he should have something in the morning.

Oliver Wood, as the boy's name ended up being, and Harry Potter shook hands and Harry became, as Professor McGonagall told him, the youngest Quidditch player in a century.

And all because Neville knocked himself out on a tree branch.

/-/

Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus came over to congratulate Harry at dinner, both of them laughing merrily.

"Your father was so pleased when he heard the news," Uncle Sirius said. "He sent me the most incoherent letter I've ever seen. I guarantee he's gone out to buy you the most expensive broom on the market, and I don't think your mother will be able to talk him down."

"As if there was any doubt," Uncle Remus said, smiling. "What possessed you to do it, Harry?"

Harry had explained most of the scenario, and neither man was surprised with Draco's taunting, but he hadn't told them what Draco said that finally coaxed him into the air. He didn't meet Uncle Sirius's eyes as he shrugged said, "Well, Draco…he…."

"He what?" Uncle Remus prompted eagerly.

"He said Kitty would have done it," Harry said quickly, feeling his cheeks get hot, glancing up at Uncle Sirius cautious.

Uncle Sirius was scratching his cheek, thoughtful, amused, and he nodded, his gray eyes sparkling as his hand dropped from his face.

"Yeah, I reckon she would do," he said with a quick bark of laughter. "She'll be mad with jealousy, you know, when she finds out."

"She doesn't even like Quidditch," Uncle Remus said, frowning.

"Yes, but it's something special Harry's doing, and she's not even at Hogwarts. Trust me, my daughter will be absolutely green. Maybe I'll tell Cat to hold off telling the kids for a bit, let her stop whinging about not being at school first, then drop the bomb about Harry getting to play Quidditch later."

Uncle Remus hissed, shaking his head slightly.

Technically, no one else was supposed to know yet. Ron knew, and he'd gone to the hospital wing to check on Neville and tell him the great news and dramatic tale of Harry saving his Remembrall, but otherwise only the teachers new. Professor McGonagall thought the other first years might cry foul if the news got around too quickly, in rumor form.

Uncle Sirius just shrugged, not bothered with keeping secrets or rules, as usual.

"I should probably check on Neville," Harry said, pushing back his plate and climbing to his feet. "I've still got to give him his Remembrall back."

The two men told him to give Neville their condolences on the fall, and Harry said he would, hurrying off to the hospital wing, a spring in his step.

 **A/N: So, Harry still gets to do Quidditch! And we get to see how some of the other parents are coping with the new school year. Sorry, I would have had it up earlier, but I'm ill today.**

 **Remember, each set of ten reviews on either part of this story earns a bonus update! You guys set a record over the last week for this story, so let's see if y'all can better it!**

 **Review Prompt: Obviously, there will be romances. What pairing do you think will be your favorite? Who do you expect to get together first?**

 **-C**


	7. Preferences

At breakfast, a package arrived for Harry, a very long and thin package, with a letter that Ron assumed was from Harry's mother by the handwriting.

"What does it say?" Ron asked eagerly as Neville put sugar on his porridge.

"It's from my mum," Harry said, smiling. "She and Dad are proud, and she told me not to open the package at the breakfast table." He leaned in and whispered, "It's a Nimbus 2000."

"No!" Ron groaned, astonished.

"Yeah, well, Uncle Sirius did say that Dad was bound to buy me the most expensive broom on the market."

"That's not just expensive, that's the best broom in the world!" Ron said.

His stomach was aching slightly with jealousy, but he supposed that when Oliver Wood graduated in a few years, he could try out to be the Keeper. There was no point trying out before that anyway, as Wood was the Keeper and Captain, and he wasn't going to just quit. Fred and George thought Wood wanted to have a go at playing for England someday.

"Can I have a go on it sometime?" Ron asked.

"Sure thing," Harry said, smiling. "Don't worry, Neville, you can borrow something else of mine. How about a jumper or something?"

Neville let out a shaky laugh, but his trembling hands showed that he wasn't fully recovered from his encounter with the tree earlier.

"We've got to run this up to the dormitory quick," Harry said, checking his watch. "Can't be late for Potions. Professor Snape would be livid."

"Isn't he always livid?" Ron said with a wince, but the three boys hurried through breakfast so they could run the broom up to their dormitory and tuck it safely in Harry's trunk before class.

/-/

If Neville thought Thursday was bad, he hadn't accounted for just how terrifying Friday would be. The end of the week was just guaranteed to be bad for his health, every day, he was certain of it. Who thought it was a good idea to put Potions in the dungeons?

And what was worse was they had two hours of it in a row first thing Friday mornings, so the clock seemed to drag by slow as humanly possible.

Professor Snape took roll and immediately began asking them questions about various ingredients and potions, all of which Hermione Granger's hand shot up for, but Professor Snape told them instead of calling on her, and Neville noticed she seemed disappointed not to be able to share her knowledge.

Neville liked Hermione. She knew a lot of things, and she wasn't shy about sharing those things with other people. She was always nice to Neville, and had been the first person to visit him in the hospital wing to tell him what Harry had done after Neville was unconscious. Neville let Ron tell the story like he didn't already know it to be polite, but Neville was pleased that Hermione had come straight to see him, before she even went to dinner.

When the students had copied down some notes on the Swelling Solution, Professor Snape told them to spend the second hour of class brewing, and Neville was pleased that Hermione was across from him, because she would surely stop him if he was about to do something stupid, whereas he thought Harry and Ron might be too preoccupied with their own potions to even notice.

/-/

At lunch on Friday, Sirius and Remus walked Harry, Neville, and Ron Weasley down to Hagrid's shack instead of the Great Hall to make the introduction. The boys had the afternoon off, but Remus and Sirius still had to teach.

"Thought they might enjoy some of your stories about the good old days," Sirius said with a wink. "Did you know Harry here just made the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"I mighta heard summat about tha'," Hagrid said, beaming at Harry through his massive beard and shaggy hair. "Yer dad's proud, I bet."

Sirius assured Hagrid that James was indeed immensely proud of his son. It was hard not to be proud, knowing Harry had found something he was very good at. Sirius hadn't seen him play yet, but having seen him fly all around Selwyn Manor's grounds as a child, Sirius knew Harry had quite a bit of natural talent and affinity for flying. If he took to being a Seeker as naturally as he'd taken to a broomstick, he might end up playing for England. James might have played for England, if there hadn't been a war to fight.

"We've got to get back to the castle," Remus said, smiling. "Classes to teach. But you boys have fun, okay? We'll see you at dinner."

/-/

As soon as Catherine finished her lunch, she ran up to the attic, where her parents had created a safe place for the children to play where they wouldn't disturb any books or breakables. She pulled open the loose floorboard her father had loosened for her to hide her things under, a little secret place for her books and her diary. If she ever had a diary she didn't want her father to read, she would have to find a different hiding space, because she was fairly certain her father periodically snuck up to the attic while she was sleeping to read her secrets.

The book she had was a Muggle one her Aunt Lily had given her. It was a copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ that Aunt Lily had read when she was Catherine's age. As she didn't have a daughter of her own, and Caroline wasn't particularly interested in books, Aunt Lily periodically gave Catherine books from her own childhood that she wanted to share, and Catherine eagerly soaked them up in private.

Six months ago, Catherine had finished reading Aunt Lily's old copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ , and she had enjoyed it, but she was finding this new Jane Austen book much more difficult to understand. Elizabeth was strong, running and walking and reading and do what she liked regardless of what boys or even other girls expected her to do. Darcy might have been a bit of a prat about things, but once he got over his awkwardness and decided he actually didn't want to live without her, things worked out alright in the end.

But Catherine couldn't figure out the Dashwood sisters. Elinor was so reserved, so accommodating. She didn't take anything she wanted, and Catherine was beginning to wonder if her practicality and self-sacrifice would ever lead to a happy ending. Aunt Lily had assured her that eventually everyone got what they deserved, but Catherine was skeptical.

She thought all Marianne deserved was a sharp slap across the face to smarten her up. She couldn't even see that Colonel Brandon was lovely, devoted, honest, and settled in the world, and that he would give her a much happier future than silly Willoughby.

Catherine wrinkled her nose at the thought of marrying a man named Willoughby. Catherine Willoughby.

Disgusting.

She firmly believed that surnames ought to be short, two syllables at most, and compliment the first name suitably, without any silliness or flourish. Her first name, for example, didn't suit her surname nearly as well as Caroline's did.

Catherine rested her head on a beam and opened the book to the page she'd left off, and began to read again, eager to find out how the introduction of Miss Lucy Steele would shake things up.

/-/

Hagrid was fantastic. Harry, Ron, and Neville spent much of the afternoon with him, learning about the best ways to navigate the school, which steps to avoid, which portraits to stay on the good side of, and how to deal with Filch.

"She's a mangy thing," Hagrid said gruffly. "Follows me every time I go t'the school. I'd give 'er a swift kick, but it'd probably kill her."

Although Harry had not yet had any particular run-in with Mrs. Norris, the eerie, clever cat of Filch, listening to other students told Harry that if Hagrid did incidentally kill the cat, very few tears would be shed apart from Filch himself. It was the greatest desire of many a student to give her a kick. A few might have tried, but the bond between caretaker and cat seemed nearly supernatural, and no one wanted to risk getting in trouble for the crime, even if Filch was nowhere to be seen.

Hagrid expressed his interest in Harry's broom, and his eagerness for the first match of the season. Ron explained that in spite of Gryffindor having a very good team, they hadn't managed to win the cup in years.

"Charlie said last year was really bad," Ron said glumly. "Higgs was a prat about it for weeks."

Hagrid's massive beard twitched like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Harry thought perhaps the something was about Higgs, and he decided it was better not to say something about a student in front of other students. Harry would have to ask Uncle Sirius about Higgs, because he was bound to ignore propriety and say what he thought. That was just what Uncle Sirius did.

"Rock cakes?" Hagrid said cheerfully, passing around a plate. The boys took them politely and tried to eat them, but "rock" was perhaps too adequate of a descriptor. Harry nearly broke a tooth trying to take a bite. When Hagrid turned around to pour more tea, the three boys tossed the cakes to Fang, the boarhound, in unison.

Fang was apparently used to his behavior, quickly gobbling up the cakes, swallowing just as Hagrid turned again to set down the cups and push the sugar toward the boys.

"Go ahead, help yerselves," he said cheerfully. "Now, have you lot been to the library yet?"

/-/

Luna, at her father's bidding, wrote out the address for each response to reader correspondence, and stuffed and sealed the responses in their respective envelopes. Each time she finished a letter, she added it to the outgoing stack, which her father would take to the post office first thing after dinner.

He called her name and she answered that she heard him.

"Do you want carrots with your stewed prunes, or do you just want them plain?"

Luna considered this question very seriously. She'd not had any carrots all week, and carrots were very important. They were a great source of protection against kelpies.

"I'll have some carrots please," she called back, and then she turned her attention back to the spelling of Doncaster, humming absently to herself as she curled the top of the "r."

/-/

At dinner, Ron was voraciously hungry. There hadn't been much that would have been labeled edible at Hagrid's hut, and they'd been there for hours.

"That was fun," he said honestly, piling food on his plate. "Hey, Harry, think we can visit him again?"

"Of course we can, he said so," Harry said. He looked up at the head table and waved at Professor Black. The professor waved back and winked, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, have you started that essay on goblins?"

Both Ron and Neville laughed. Harry shook his head and smiled. They would probably do it Sunday night late, or between classes, during lunch on Monday. Ron was just happy that Professor Black gave them a relatively short assignment and told them where to find the information. It was more than could be said for really any other professor, who all seemed keen to bury the first years before they even got their feet on the ground.

At least there would be Quidditch.

/-/

Jason let his mother tuck in the sheets around him, and he stared up at the ceiling, licking his lips. His father had promised, and Jason knew he would come home on the weekend. Their father had never broken a promise to Catherine.

"Mum," Jason said, "do you and Dad have favorites?"

She frowned.

"What? Favorite what? Like sweets or books or something?"

"No, favorite children."

His mother laughed and shook her head. She touched his nose and said, "Jason, I know sometimes it seems like your father loves Kitty more than you and Caroline, but I promise you, that isn't true."

"How do you know?" he asked, not defensively, just trying to understand what it was that had Catherine always getting what she wanted.

His mother sat back and frowned, smoothing the sheets underneath where she sat on the edge of his bed. His mother had to busy her hands when she was thinking about something, often taking a ribbon from her pocket and twisting it in her fingers.

"When your sister was born, the war was barely over, and I told your father that I didn't want any more children. I wasn't even sure how I was going to do with her, yet, but he so badly wanted more. And he eventually convinced me that we should have more children because I was doing well with Kitty, and we had you, and then we had Caro, and trust me, your father wanted even more. And when each of you was born, he held you in his hands and…" She paused, smiling and leaning forward conspiratorially. "Don't tell your father I told you this." Jason shook his head that he wouldn't. "He cried the first time he held each of you."

Jason was very surprised with this news. As far as he was aware, his father never cried. Jason's father was a man in extreme control of his emotions and his behavior, and he never lost that control no matter how he was tested. The closest he came was when Catherine was pressing him for something she wanted, and he would show the slightest signs of wavering before either holding firm or giving in.

"And I know," his mother continued, "that if something were to ever happen to any of you, your father would be devastated beyond words. He's lost a lot already, you know. Someday, maybe, he'll tell you about it, but the war took a great deal from him. We are everything to him, you and your sisters and me. It's very important that you are happy and healthy and living in a peaceful world where you can be whatever you want."

Jason nodded. He sat up a little to kiss his mother's cheek before laying back down and wishing her a good night. He closed his eyes and imagined his father crying at Caroline's birth, or as close as he could come to imagining something so very strange.

/-/

About an hour after midnight, Sirius unlocked the door to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, scratching his cheek when he got inside and closed the door. Should he sleep in one of the guest rooms to give Cara her rest? As much as he knew it was the right thing to do, just the thought of Cara sleeping in their bed made him long to touch her, to kiss her sweet lips and hold her as she slept, hearing her steady breathing as he fell asleep. As much as he loved seeing his children, the thing he missed the most while at Hogwarts was holding his wife.

Against his better judgment, Sirius crept up to their bedroom, holding his breath as he eased the door open. To his surprise and momentary elation, his wife wasn't asleep at all, but looking up at the window with a thoughtful expression. She started at the sight of his reflection on the windowpane, and she turned to look at him, eyes wide and questioning.

"I know," he said holding up his hands to stop her questions. "I know I said I'd come in the morning, but I couldn't wait. When I finished marking, I wanted to see you so badly." Sirius crossed to where she was, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "What are you still doing up?"

"Just thinking," she said.

"I could see that," he teased, sitting beside her and pressing his forehead to the side of her head, just above her ear. Sirius breathed in deeply, relishing the scent of her, the scent that was nowhere around him at Hogwarts. "What about?"

"Our son said something tonight," she said, raising a hand to touch his hair. "It was just…. Well, he was wondering if we had favorites."

"Favorite what?"

"Children."

Sirius jerked back startled by the question, horrified that his son would think such a thing. The way he loved them all was very different, especially where Catherine was concerned, but Sirius would do anything for any of his children, and he thought of each of them every day, and things he missed when he wasn't with them.

"Don't worry," she said, smiling sadly. "I set him straight. He's very sensitive, I think. He sees things, understands them, but he doesn't have the maturity yet to always see things fully."

"He's like Regulus," Sirius said, feeling a stab of pain at those words. He'd thought them often when looking at Jason, but he'd never said them out loud. Cara nodded thoughtfully, her eyebrows twitching into a frown as she considered the similarities between their son and Regulus.

"He's got an advantage your brother didn't have," Cara said, lacing her fingers in his, turning her body in to Sirius's.

"Oh?"

"No war."

Sirius thought about the war every day, about the things he lost and the things he'd gained. He had to think about it because of the subject he taught, and every day he reminded himself how things might have been worse, how he might have lost more. He might have lost Cara, and then he would have no family at all. He might have lost Narcissa, or Narcissa might have lost Draco. He might have lost Lily or James, or both and Harry. He might have lost Dorcas and Fabian, the Longbottoms, Mad-Eye six times over.

It would have been so easy. A little thing here. A small shift there. Someone minding their own business instead of checking up on others. The whole world could be a different place now.

The war was over, he told his students, his children, his friends, but he could never say those words to Cara. She knew him too well. She understood like perhaps no one else did that for Sirius, the war would never end, and if he ever thought it might, there was always an ugly black skull on his forearm to remind him of its permanence.

 **A/N: I've, erm, been a bit distracted by the Olympics and getting ready for my classroom, so… Sorry I'm way behind on replying to reviews.**

 **Review Prompt: Does Sirius have favorite children, in spite of what Cara said?**

 **-C**


	8. Halloween

In all the years Remus had been working at Hogwarts, he'd never felt so much nostalgia as he did watching these Gryffindor first years. Harry, Ron, and Neville reminded him of the Marauders in certain ways, with Draco as a kind of friendly rival – a much kinder version of how they set up against Severus Snape as children. What was even more, Hermione Granger had many of the qualities that Lily had as a student: bright, talented, Muggle-born, precocious, and incredibly kind. She even wasn't especially close to the boys, with the only one she would speak to being Neville, who reminded Remus a bit of himself. Harry was easily a mix of his father and Sirius, and Ron had a little bit of Peter in him, Peter before he turned on them all for reasons Remus still did not understand.

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked Sirius on Halloween morning, watching the boys eat breakfast and pore over a Quidditch magazine.

"What?"

"School?"

The question sounded silly for two men who had spent the majority of their lives within the walls of Hogwarts, but Remus recognized understanding in his friend's eyes.

Sirius snorted and said, "Every bloody day, Moony. Every day."

/-/

Severus did not listen to Albus as the older man droned on about all the ridiculous things he had lined up for the Halloween feast. If Severus should ever have the misfortune to become Headmaster – Merlin forbid – he would do away with such frivolities. He had enough of that mess whenever Narcissa or Sirius forced him to go to some sort of event for the sake of propriety. Propriety, Severus thought, required far too much revelry.

/-/

Harry was annoyed to have classes before the Halloween feast, but he was trying to focus. Oliver Wood had impressed upon Harry how important it was to keep his grades up so that teachers couldn't give him any reason not to play Quidditch. Between stories from older students about Halloween Feasts past and rumors for what Professor Dumbledore had lined up for this year, the first years were buzzing with excitement, and by and large, classes seemed insignificant.

Except for Charms.

Professor Flitwick announced that they were ready to learn levitation, which everyone was very excited about. Professor Flitwick's first demonstration to them had been causing several objects to zoom around the room, delighting the students and capturing the imagination.

As it happened, there was a lot more to levitation charms than waving a wand and saying some words. Professor Flitwick explained how critical it was to practice the proper wand motion, and to pronounce the words correctly. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall had both given examples of horror stories where careless wizards and witches had not correctly pronounced their spells and had unintended consequences, including being crushed nearly to death by a buffalo.

The students were paired off with feathers, Harry with Neville, Hermione with a very reluctant Ron, Dean with Seamus, Parvati with Lavender, and each pair was tasked with taking turns attempting to levitate the feather.

"Can I try first?" Harry asked, knowing that Neville was anxious, and accidents happened when Neville became anxious.

"Yeah, sure," Neville said, shrugging. "I'm just glad I'm with you and not…"

He wriggled his eyebrows to signify Seamus without speaking, who had burned off his eyebrows by accident when trying to turn his water to rum at lunch one day and had yet to fully grow them back.

" _Wingardium LevioSA!"_ Ron said eagerly, waving and shaking his wand wildly. " _Wingardium LevioSA!"_

Hermione seemed alarmed, and Harry turned to the feather, trying to ignore what was bound to become a fight.

"Stop!" she said, horrified at Ron's poor attempts at the spell. "You're going to hurt someone! You're saying it wrong. It's not Levio-SA, it's Levi-OH-sa."

Ron had grown increasingly annoyed with Hermione as she answered nearly every question in nearly every class. He'd taken to calling her a know-it-all when she wasn't around, occasionally mocking the way her whole body trembled from raised fingertips to pointed toes when she was hoping to be called on.

"Well, why don't you do it then," Ron said bitterly, "if you think you're so clever?"

Harry and Neville exchanged horrified glances. Not only was it very rude, but it was almost certain that Hermione would be able to do the spell without any great trouble. She seemed to have a natural knack for copying the behaviors and intonations of teachers to get things right the first time.

Glancing carefully over their shoulders at her, Harry and Neville saw her raising her wand to the feather, shoulders back, and she said firmly, " _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The wand swished and flicked gracefully, the words sounding almost exactly as they had when Professor Flitwick had said them, and Harry watched, in astonishment, as the feather began to rise off the table, slowly floating up, up, up, until it was half a foot above the table.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick said eagerly. "Ten points to Gryffindor! Look, everyone, Miss Granger's done it!"

Hermione was so pleased with herself, she turned slightly pink, and Harry noticed that Ron's ears had gone red as he sulked beside her, sliding down in his chair in an effort to shrink as the whole class looked at them.

/-/

"What's this?" Fabian asked, picking up the piece of fabric Dorcas dropped on his desk as they were about to go out for lunch.

"Your tie," she said raising an amused eyebrow.

"What tie?"

"The one I just bought for you." She slipped her arm into his and pulled him toward the door out of his office. "Cara was very kind to invite us, and you will adhere to her dress standards while a guest in her manor. Is that understood?"

Fabian admirably fought the urge to roll his eyes at the silly expectations of the upper-crust purebloods. What good was there to be had in such behavior? What good did a tie ever do someone?

Still, if it made his wife happy, a tie was the least of what he could suffer through.

/-/

Ron was still suffering injured pride as the class was dismissed, and Harry and Neville flanked him, trying to keep him moving in the right direction in his distracted state. Harry noted that Ron's ears were still quite red as he mocked the way Hermione had corrected him.

"Honestly, she's awful," Ron said. "Why can't she mind her own business? Hasn't she ever wondered why she doesn't have any friends?"

Before either Harry or Neville could answer, Harry felt someone push past him, hurrying away, sniffing. The bushy hair confirmed that it was Hermione, and Harry said softly, "I think she heard you, Ron."

"So?" Ron said, but without the conviction he'd had before. Perhaps he felt guilty for upsetting her, or perhaps he didn't like that he'd said something so mean. Still, the boys went to lunch and settled in, Ron's appetite unscathed by what he had done.

Harry and Neville, on the other hand, did not have much of an appetite. They looked at their sandwiches, but they did not partake of them easily. When Harry finally did take a few bites of his, it had very little flavor, like sawdust in his mouth, and he had to force himself to swallow rather than spit it out.

After a little while, the sounds of other students' conversations wafted over to them, and Harry heard Parvati telling Lavender that Hermione had locked herself in the toilet, crying. He exchanged a glance with Neville, who had also heard, and they both put down their sandwiches.

"Ron, you need to go apologize," Harry said firmly.

Ron, through a mouthful of sandwich, managed to convey that he couldn't possibly apologize because he wasn't allowed in the girls' toilet.

Unfortunately, this was a very good point, and Harry and Neville frowned at each other, having to accept their momentary defeat.

/-/

Brontes watched his sister comb out her hair, bored of his book. Adrasteia had such luxurious hair, and she took very good care of it, protecting each lock and curl, using products that lined her bathroom sink to preserve the shine and texture of her hair.

"Quit staring at me," she snapped, putting down her comb and frowning at him. "It's freakish."

He shrugged, picking his book up again, pretending to read, although it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

"Why are you starting so soon?" he asked, careful not to look up from his book. "The party isn't for hours yet."

"Unlike you and Aeson, I take pride in looking appropriate for the occasion," she sniffed.

Brontes smiled to himself, wondering why he'd expected anything different. His sister mostly wanted to look better than Catherine Black, and although Brontes would never say this out loud, he didn't think it would ever happen. Catherine and Caroline Black had better raw material than Adrasteia, whose face was too thin, her eyes too large, and her body too thin to look healthy. She was pretty, but Catherine and Caroline were attractive, even as children. Just like while Brontes thought his mother was beautiful, he happened to think that Aunt Cara was ten times more beautiful, perhaps because she smiled where his mother hardly ever did.

And in truth, that was half what was wrong with Adrasteia. Brontes didn't smile much, either, but he thought it was a trait far more important for a woman's attractiveness than a man's. Whomever he ended up marrying, he wanted her to smile, and he wanted her smile to be something like Aunt Cara's smile.

"Which robes are you wearing?" he asked.

"Why?" Adrasteia asked suspiciously.

"Because Mother wants me to match my outfit and Aeson's outfit to yours."

"Oh," she said. "I was thinking the emerald ones Mother purchased yesterday."

"Very well," he said. He'd expected as much, but Brontes had long ago learned not to simply go with his expectations where his sister was concerned.

/-/

When Hermione did not show up for History of Magic, Harry and Neville knew they had to do something drastic. They approached Uncle Sirius's desk, where attendance was being taken.

"Boys," he said, looking up at Harry and Neville, "do either of you know where Miss Granger is?"

"Professor, we'd like to go and retrieve her, if you don't mind," Harry said, before lowering his voice to a very soft whisper. "Someone upset her earlier and I think she's still hiding."

Uncle Sirius's eyes flashed with understanding and he nodded.

"Go ahead," he said. "Make sure you get notes from someone from anything you've missed."

"Yes, sir," both boys chorused, and they gave Ron a pointed look to take notes, hurrying out of the classroom, going down to the first floor, knocking on doors and peeking inside until they reached what appeared to be the girl's toilet.

"Well, it's not ours," Neville said with a nervous shrug. "And those were sinks."

"So what do we do?" Harry asked. "I mean, what if someone else is in there?"

Neville's mouth twisted as he considered their options.

"I guess if we go in and there's other people in there, we leave. But if it's just her, we should probably stay until she agrees to talk with us."

This seemed reasonable to Harry, so the two boys summoned all their courage and, for the first time in their lives, entered the girl's toilet with heads held high.

Luckily, there was only one pair of feet visible in the toilets, and Harry knocked on the door to the stall.

"Go away," Hermione said tearfully.

"No," Neville said. And the sound of sniffling stopped as she realized that these were boys, and not girls trying to speak to her.

"Hermione, we need to talk to you," Harry said.

"You should be in class," she said weakly.

"So should you," the boys chorused.

Hermione did not answer, and after several sniffles, Harry sighed and said, "Professor Black said we could go and see if you were okay as long as we get notes from someone. Hermione, Ron didn't really mean it."

"Yes he did," she said bitterly.

Neville shrugged at Harry. Of course, Harry couldn't really refute this because he didn't really know what Ron thought or felt, but it seemed impossible to Harry that Ron would really mean something like that. He was too nice.

"It was cruel," Neville said. "He shouldn't have said that, and he will apologize, but he was upset and it was easier to say mean things about you than to take ownership for his own embarrassment."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. He was impressed with not only Neville's sensitivity, but also the obvious maturity with which Neville had assessed and explained the situation. Neville had clearly been paying attention to his mother's character assessments of all their friends and family.

Slowly, very slowly, the door to the stall creaked open and Hermione, with puffy red eyes, said, "He shouldn't have done it.

"No," Harry said. "No, he shouldn't have."

"I can see where he would be embarrassed," she said slowly, wiping frantically at her cheeks. She caught of herself in the mirror and gasped. "I can't go to class like this."

Neville took out a handkerchief and turned away from her slightly, indicating that Harry should turn as well while she blew her nose. She said softly that she would have it cleaned before she gave it back to Neville, and he shook his head.

"Keep it," he said. "I've got lots of them. My gran thinks handkerchiefs are important."

Although he never had for anything before, Harry couldn't help but agree with Augusta Longbottom on this particular point. It had certainly served a useful purpose in comforting Hermione, and healing the breach between the boys and the girl.

"I'll just wash my face a little," she said softly, "and I'll come back to class."

The boys told her they would wait outside, and they walked out into the hall, kicking at the wall occasionally as they waited.

"She's very nice," Neville said softly.

"Seems to be," Harry agreed with a shrug.

"And very smart."

"Yeah. Very."

"Don't tell Ron," Neville whispered. "He'll tease me. But I think…I think she's kind of pretty."

Harry's eyebrows shot up before he could stop himself, and he tried to understand this statement. Hermione's hair was a wild mess and her front teeth were quite large. He supposed that other than that, she wasn't half bad, but it seemed so strange for Neville to fancy her. Maybe it was because she was nice.

"Okay," Harry said. "I won't say anything to Ron. She's going to come out soon."

Sure enough, Hermione stepped out, and the boys silently accompanied her to class as though the conversation about how Neville viewed her had never happened.

/-/

Narcissa stepped into Selwyn Manor on her husband's arm and greeted Cara warmly, kissing her cheek after her husband kissed Cara's hand.

"I see you nodding to Rabastan," Narcissa said playfully to Lucius. "Go on. I'll keep Cara company."

When Lucius took his leave with a slightly stiff gait, Narcissa linked arms with Cara and said, "Are we the last to arrive?"

"Yes, always," Cara sighed. "I just wish Sirius could be here."

Narcissa hummed her agreement, walking with Cara into the ballroom, where so many parties and events had taken place over the years. Adults, friends of the Blacks, were helping themselves to the food the elf had prepared, but something was conspicuously missing.

"Where are the children?" she asked.

Cara smiled a little and said, "They've all retreated to the garden. I've had a little selection of sweets put up for them out there, so if they want to, they can stay outside much of the night. I expect they'll grow tired and return before then."

They passed the Prewetts, and Narcissa nodded her acknowledgement of Dorcas. The Potters were chattering away with Fabian Prewett, while Rabastan and Lucius had their heads together, speaking softly about something Narcissa was almost certain she wouldn't like.

Andromeda crossed, greeting Narcissa and Cara warmly, her midnight blue robes billowing attractively about her figure.

"Things really haven't changed much, have they?" Andromeda asked, nodding to her husband, who was approaching the bundle of Gryffindors in the corner, far apart from Rabastan and Lucius. "You would think, this long after the war, that we'd all find a way to get along."

"Some wounds take generations to heal," Cara said softly. "I think it's remarkable we can all be in the same room."

Narcissa and Andromeda nodded their agreement, and the sound of giggling girls wafted in from the open French doors, very likely Caroline Black and the youngest Prewett girl. Caroline's laughter had a canine quality reminiscent to her father's. Narcissa found it chilling, but it seemed to comfort Cara.

Much about the Black family bothered Narcissa, from the fact that Sirius still called his wife Cat to the fact that they named their eldest daughter Catherine, a name that would mean nothing to them without Bellatrix's meddling and manipulation. Also, knowing the lengths Sirius and Rabastan went to in order to protect Cara from the attention and repercussions of her actions in the war still bothered Narcissa, and every time she saw her cousin's Dark Mark she wondered what exactly Sirius's morality consisted of, beyond loyalty and devotion to his wife and children.

"So," Narcissa said, turning to her sister with a smile, hiding her gloomy thoughts and memories, "tell me about Nymphadora's career choices. Has she made the program?"

Andromeda's daughter had just graduated Hogwarts and had intended to join the Auror program, which they had been uncertain her grades would qualify her for.

"She has," Andromeda said, glowing with pride. "She's made the program, and she has three years of training before being fully qualified. Alastor Moody is training her himself!"

Cara seemed satisfied with this news, and she said, "He's really the very best. You know, he didn't trust me even before I knew who I was. She'll learn well."

Narcissa smiled politely, although she didn't fully agree with this assessment of careers and usefulness and other things. She vastly preferred her life and Cara's life to one of working for a sordid government agency. Still, it was Halloween, and it would not do to spoil the celebrations for all.

 **A/N: So. The Olympics are nearly over, I'm about to start teaching for the first time, and this story is STILL on the move. It's hard to juggle anything else forward, but c'est la vie. I'm working on it.**

 **Review Prompt: What exactly does Sirius's morality consist of, do you think?**

 **-C**


	9. Quidditch

On the morning of Harry's first Quidditch match, he felt sick to his stomach. He stared at his plate, not wanting to touch any of the food on it, none of it smelling good to him.

His father had written, and both of his parents were coming to watch the match. What if he messed up, what if he missed the Snitch, or didn't see it at all, and he disappointed his father? What if he let all of Gryffindor down?

"Harry," Neville said, frowning at Harry's untouched plate, "your food is going to go cold."

Harry said nothing.

Hermione, who had occasionally taken to sitting with them or near them while reading, after Ron apologized for his behavior, looked over the top of her book and said, "You'll need your strength, Harry. That's not nearly enough food."

"She's right, you know," Seamus Finnigan said, piling ketchup on his sausages. "It's always the Seekers who get clobbered."

If Harry thought he'd felt sick before, that was nothing to how he felt now.

"Thanks, Seamus," Harry said, poking weakly at his food to keep the others satisfied while Ron blissfully ate beside him. Perhaps, when no one was looking, Harry could spoon his food onto Ron's plate. He doubted Ron would know the difference.

Harry felt a hand clap his shoulder, and he looked up to see Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius smiling down at him.

"You'll do great, Harry," Uncle Remus said. "We've got you something."

He produced a small package, which Harry opened greedily as an excuse not to be eating. Inside were a pair of goggles, which Harry picked up, stunned. He'd never seen such a thing.

"Your dad used to get his glasses broken all the time," Uncle Sirius explained. "We figured these might help. They're prescription, so you don't have to wear your glasses onto the pitch."

"Thank you," Harry said, slightly stunned at the thoughtful gesture. He hadn't given any thought to his glasses, but he supposed that if he did, as Seamus put it, get clobbered, glasses would be a fragile point.

"Eat something," Uncle Remus said, slipping a bar of Honeydukes Best Chocolate into his pocket and winking. "I promise, you'll feel better."

Harry said that he would try, and he turned sullenly back to his breakfast, trying to work up the courage to stick a bit of sausage in his mouth.

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Dean and Seamus made their way to the Quidditch pitch together, decked out in their scarlet and gold. They were pleased to see that many more students were sporting Gryffindor signs than Slytherin, a testament to how the school supported them in the competition between the two houses that was a storied rivalry.

"Have you noticed that Neville and Hermione spend a lot of time together?" Dean said, nodding toward Neville, Ron, and Hermione, who were walking to the Quidditch pitch in a line.

"Do they?" Seamus asked, perking up thoughtfully, looking at them. "Well, she spends time with Harry and Ron, too."

"I guess."

Dean thought it was more than she spent with the other two, but he didn't want to push the matter. Seamus was a bit likely to tease Neville if he thought Neville fancied someone, and Dean thought that might make their dormitory an awkward place to be.

The boys took their places in the stands, several rows from Neville, Ron, and Hermione, just down the bench from Parvati and Lavender. Dean turned his mind to the game, to screaming for Harry until his throat was terribly sore, with very little strain.

/-/

Harry changed into his robes and sat on the benches for the pep talk, finding himself accidentally between Fred and George Weasley. It wasn't that Harry didn't like Ron's brothers, but the twins loved to tease Oliver, and the last thing Harry wanted was to have attention drawn to him while the twins were heckling the captain. Just as Harry was thinking of making up some reason to get up again so he could discretely sit somewhere else, the Captain cleared his throat.

"Okay, men," Wood said, clasping his hands together.

"And women," Angelina Johnson prompted. She was their best Chaser, although the best of three very excellent Chaser was difficult to measure.

"And women," Wood said with a conceding nod. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred said.

"The one we've all been waiting for." George said.

Harry raised his eyebrows, and wished instantly that he hadn't, because Fred leaned in and said, "We know Oliver's speech by heart. We were on the team last year."

Harry was about to ask about that, because Charlie Weasley had been the captain the previous year, and wouldn't he have given his own pep speeches? But before he could ask, Oliver Wood snapped, "Shut up, you two." Then he collected himself. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared around at all of them as what was probably meant as a look of pride but came off more as a threat of what he might put them through if they somehow didn't win.

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed the twins out, as the order on the team sheet dictated, and he took deep breaths to calm himself. Madam Hooch was in the center of the pitch, refereeing, which was apparently part of her usual job. The Slytherin team, in their green and silver, was also walking out to where Madam Hooch was amidst cheers and jeers of the crowd. Somewhere in that crowd was Harry's parents.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you."

Harry looked at the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, who seemed to be the particular focus of her pointed comment, a very large fifth-year who seemed to be part troll. At the very least, he was exceptionally ugly.

"Mount your brooms, please."

The teams did as directed, Harry on his Nimbus 2000. When Madam Hooch blew her whistle, fifteen brooms rose up from the pitch, and the game began quickly. The twins' friend, Lee Jordan, began his commentary.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

Harry grinned as he heard Professor McGonagall cry out, "JORDAN!"

Apparently, according to the twins, this was usual for Quidditch matches. Lee was very good at his job, but he would sometimes get off track, or say things not especially approved of, and so Professor McGonagall kept a close watch on him.

"Sorry, Professor. And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Charlie Weasley's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – That's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Harry pumped his fist in the air as the crowd cheered, and he kept his eyes peeled for the little flick of gold that would be the Snitch.

/-/

Padma, who was sitting with her sister Parvati and Parvati's friend Lavender Brown on account of this not being a Ravenclaw match, clapped appreciatively, not that she really cared who won. Still, Parvati seemed very interested in the outcome of the match, so Padma tried to be supportive.

"Wouldn't it be brilliant if Harry catches the Snitch?" Lavender said excitedly.

Ah, yes, Padma had forgotten. Harry Potter, her sister's classmate, was the youngest Quidditch player in a century. And if Lavender and Parvati were nice to him and became his friend, if he went on to become famous for his Quidditch talent, they could say they were among the first to know him. Padma could see the logic in that, and she clapped a little louder.

Perhaps she had a preference after all.

/-/

Harry was flying over the action, as directed by Oliver, who told him many times over to stay out of the way and not get injured while looking for the Snitch. He'd had a few small times during the action moved from his pattern back and forth over the game, once when he mistook a wristwatch for a moment, a second time to move out of the path of a Bludger, which Fred Weasley chased down and battered in the direction of Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession. Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"

Indeed it was, and Pucey even paused as he tried to get a better look at the metallic flash over his ear.

Harry had seen it, but so had the other Seeker, Terrence Higgs. Both were diving toward the metallic flash, and everyone in the stadium, including the other players, had stopped what they were doing to watch the pair, breathless.

Speed was Harry's advantage, and he was certain he would get there first. He put a bit of an extra burst, trying to ensure that he arrived first, when he felt as though a train had collided with him.

The crowd screamed in rage and horror as Marcus Flint ran directly into Harry to stop him from reaching the Snitch. Harry's broom took a dangerous spin, and he very nearly was thrown from it.

"Foul!" the Gryffindor end of the stand screamed in near unison.

Madam Hooch spoke harshly to Flint, who did not seem at all contrite for his behavior, and a penalty shot was awarded to Gryffindor. The Snitch was nowhere to be seen again, and Harry retreated back up to the top of the pitch, above the action, rubbing at his surely-bruised shoulder with anger burning in his chest.

/-/

Ron bounced up and down on the balls of his feat anxiously as he heard Dean yelling for Flint to be sent out of the game. He was just about to say they didn't do that, that Dean was getting football and Quidditch mixed up again, when Neville said, "Actually, they really ought to be able to do that. Flint could have killed him."

Hermione agreed eagerly, and Ron snapped his mouth shut again, saying nothing. If Neville and Hermione agreed on something, Ron already knew well enough not to argue with it.

/-/

Harry got his sense of humor back as Lee struggled with the commentary.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"

"Jordan!"

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"

" _Jordan, I'm warning you—"_

"Alright, alright. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Harry dodged another Bludger and realized very quickly the new strategy of Slytherin was not to score points, but to throw everything at him, from Bludgers to the occasional "slipped" bat to their bodies, trying to distract him from his search by bringing play up to him.

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes to bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking Professor – Slytherin score – oh no…"

Slytherins cheered.

/-/

Neville leaned forward and said, "Look at Harry!"

Terrence Higgs wasn't even looking for the Snitch. Instead, he was trying to distract Harry, and the two were in a sort of tussle without touching, moving up and up, away from the game as Higgs appeared to continually charge at Harry.

"What's that all about?" Ron asked, annoyed.

"It looks like Flint gave the Seeker an idea or two," Seamus shouted, angry. "Why can't they just play the bloody game?"

Ron pointed out that it was perfectly within the rules, frustrating as it was, although Hermione said it didn't make much sense, that the Snitch had to be caught sometime.

"If Slytherin outscores Gryffindor by a large enough margin," Neville explained, "it won't matter who catches the Snitch. Higgs doesn't have the speed to match Harry, so he's improvising."

"We'll be here all bloody day," Ron said bitterly. "Wood's too good for that strategy to work."

They sat in glumly as they waited for something to give.

/-/

Lily clenched her fists anxiously. This was so much worse than watching James play back in school. This was her baby up there on that far-too-fast broom, being continually attacked and charged. When the Slytherin Chaser collided with him she nearly leapt from her seat, but Sirius and James held her arms firmly, even as they yelled their anger.

The Weasley twins, the Gryffindor Beaters, had on Bludger between them that they were hitting back and forth, continually, aiming for Higgs from either side of the tussle between the Seekers. Lily could hardly breathe for watching, because what if they hit Harry by mistake? She didn't even know where the other Bludger was, and no one else seemed to care, either. Even the other players had disregarded attention to what they were doing in order to see what was happening above their heads.

"Just hit him!" James cried with frustration, and as if hearing the cry, one of the Weasleys landed the Bludger squarely on the side of Higgs's head with a deafening crack.

Both Lily and James stood up suddenly then, as Harry sped toward the ground, diving dramatically and dangerously. Lily had seen professional Quidditch players injure themselves seriously on such dives, unable to pull out of them in time, hitting the ground at dizzyingly high speeds.

Harry managed to pull out of the dive, clapping his hand over his mouth suddenly, and Lily was very puzzled. Was he going to be sick? What was wrong?

He did hit the pitch, coughing something onto the grass, then holding up his hand.

The whole stands were holding their breath in wonder and confusion, so his yell could be heard, "I've got the Snitch!"

The crowd roared as Gryffindor won the match in spite of Flint's howls that catching it in his mouth wasn't really catching it. Lee Jordan, the commentator, was announcing a win of 170-60, but Lily and James were hurrying with Remus and Sirius down to the pitch, down to where they could congratulate their son properly.

/-/

Catherine listened bitterly, frowning at her tea as Uncle James recounted the match for her mother and siblings. Harry came away sounding heroic, impressive, talented. If she'd been at the match, no doubt, Catherine would have been caught up cheering for him in the excitement of the moment like everyone else. But this secondhand excitement did nothing for her, and in all the fuss, Aunt Lily didn't even notice Catherine's new dress.

"How did the broom do?" Caroline asked excitedly, and she and Uncle James began an in-depth discussion of the Nimbus 2000.

Jason and Catherine exchanged bored looks, quickly finished their tea, and retreated from the room as politely as possible.

"You're proud of him," Jason said, leading her to the library where they had an unfinished game of chess waiting for them.

"What?"

"You're proud of Harry," Jason said, shrugging. "We all are. You're just upset Mum wouldn't take you."

Catherine sniffed indignantly, but she didn't argue, because she wasn't sure he was wrong. Catherine rarely argued when she wasn't sure. It opened up an opportunity to be proven wrong.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone," he said, sitting down across from her at the little table where they'd set up the chess board. He considered his pieces. "Your turn, right?"

"Yeah," she said, smoothing her skirt over her thighs after sitting.

"The dress looks very nice, by the way," Jason said, not looking up at her, still considering the board.

Although she should have been planning her move, Catherine looked up at her brother thoughtfully. Sometimes, because he was a boy, she grouped him with Harry and Draco and Brontes and Aeson, like he was just like all of them and he only lived to aggravate her. But that was truer of Caroline than it had ever been of Jason. Actually, when Catherine thought about it, her brother was actually very sensitive, even sweet sometimes.

Not that she would ever say that out loud.

"Thank you," she said, trying not to sound too surprised.

Jason, still not looking up, shrugged, and said, "It hadn't been said yet, and it's true, after all."

She realized it was her turn, and she glanced down at the board, scanning her pieces quickly before moving her bishop, lining it up to take his castle.

Jason blinked twice, looking passively at the board before taking her queen and announcing, "Check."

Catherine's nostrils flared as she realized that he'd been distracting her, that he'd put her off-balance so she didn't take the proper time to observe her position and reacquaint herself with the board.

Well, he was sweet sometimes, but not too sweet, she thought as she began scanning the board more carefully for a way out of the mess she'd unwittingly found herself in.

Her siblings, on occasion, made her fully believe their family had members in Slytherin on both sides. In that moment, she was certain that was where her brother would end up.

 **A/N: So, Harry's caught his first Snitch – in his mouth. Neville and Hermione are getting closer. Catherine is suffering bravely through her last year before school.**

 **AND I've introduced a key POV this chapter. Just a snippet, but it will be big in the endgame.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were Sorting Catherine, Jason, and Caroline, where would you put them?**

 **-C**


	10. Christmas at Selwyn Manor

**A/N: NO, you've not earned a bonus update. I'm just giving you one because I start my new job this morning and it's a good way to calm the nerves. Also, this chapter is dedicated to reader/reviewer Superultrafangirl, who has read some of my work and whose reviews are always heartening.**

 **-C**

Jason and his siblings sat on the steps of the main staircase at Selwyn Manor, waiting anxiously. They hated waiting at the Manor instead of meeting their father at the train station, but their mother – while having learned to drive – never felt comfortable doing it in London, so the Black children waited anxiously for the arrival of the Potters and their father.

When the front door opened, they rushed at their father, who passed the bags he was carrying to Uncle James, sweeping his children into his arms eagerly, kissing each of their faces, starting with Catherine, as always.

"I hope your mother tells me you've all been good," he said, teasing, tapping each of their noses. "It would be a shame for me to have to put these lovely things aside for a different holiday."

All three of them began protesting at once as Aunt Lily and Uncle James laughed, each trying to tell their father how very good they'd been in his absence. He laughed, too, and allowed himself to be led into the ballroom, where a very large tree had been put in by the elf.

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Although her brothers were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, Ginny was not exactly pleased to be the only child left at home. While she was going to her cousins' house for Christmas, her parents weren't coming with her. No, they were off to Romania to visit Charlie, who had paid for their travel. He'd offered to pay for Ginny to come too, but her mother was convinced that it wasn't a safe journey, her little girl, not even old enough for school, to go traipsing off to Romania, where there was a dragon colony of all things. It didn't matter that Charlie assured her it was safe.

"Maybe next time," Rhea said with a shrug when Ginny expressed her bitterness. How could Rhea always be so philosophical?

But then, she passed Ginny the fudge tin, and Ginny supposed philosophy was easier with chocolate.

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On Christmas Eve, Jason helped his mother pass out the eggnog and he took a seat by Uncle James, who was working on a puzzle Caroline had challenged him to finish. He was notoriously bad at puzzles, mostly because he didn't have the patience to finish them once he started, and Caroline knew that Uncle James similarly couldn't stand failing a challenge, so they were all very interested in the outcome.

"Hey, Jason," Uncle James said, winking at him. "Come to give me helpful hints?"

"Do the corners first, then the edges, then fill in from there," Jason said with a shrug. He took a long drink of his eggnog as Uncle James snorted.

"I've gotten that far. Have either of your sisters torn my son apart yet?"

Jason smirked, setting down his glass and glancing up to see Caroline was busy arguing with Harry over a plate of fudge. Jason tapped one of the pieces, then tapped the piece already on the frame that it attached to. Uncle James smiled and winked at him again, attaching the piece, then pondering what else might go in the next spot. Jason would have tapped another, but Caroline had heard her father laugh at the exchange and she turned her beady eyes on the puzzle again.

"No helping him!" she said sternly, waving her finger at her brother angrily.

"I'm just drinking my eggnog," Jason said innocently. "I've not done this one before, remember? That was why you picked it."

Her mouth worked with frustration, but Aunt Lily asked if she would help carry in some of the sweets, and she hurried to help. Jason waited for the door to close behind her before, tapping another set of pieces, smirking at his father, who was shaking in his attempts at silent laughter.

Christmas was Jason's favorite time of year.

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Luna kissed her father's cheek and pressed a small, wrapped parcel onto his lap. He smiled at her, opening it, finding inside a hand-made picture frame, with some glass Luna took from a frame that had been discarded in the attic. In the frame, she had placed an old picture of her parents, from their wedding.

"Mum was beautiful," she said simply, watching his eyes fill with tears.

Her mother had only been dead for about a year, and sometimes Luna felt a bit sad about it, sometimes even quite sad, but she knew her father felt responsible. Luna should not have been present when it happened. She was supposed to be with him, but he'd gotten a call about a possible sighting of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, and her mother had encouraged him to go off after the tip, which had amounted to nothing.

"Mum loved Christmas," Luna said, kissing her father's cheek again. "Do you want some cider, Dad?"

He murmured that he was fine, although she knew he wasn't, and she said goodnight. In the morning, he would shower her with presents she didn't really need, and she would pretend she didn't know that it was all because he still felt terribly guilty, as though he could have done anything differently. He was a brilliant man, but sometimes he let his emotions carry him away.

/-/

Jason sat up in his bed, nearly silent, even breathing as quietly as he could. He knew he should sleep, but he'd never been able to sleep before something exciting. He knew Catherine had the same problem. Caroline would wear herself out until she passed out from exhaustion, but it didn't matter how tired Catherine and Jason were. They just couldn't sleep when something exciting was due to happen.

He would close his eyes when either his parents or the elf placed gifts at the foot of his bed. Come morning, when his father or Uncle James asked how he slept, he would lie and say he slept very well, thank you very much. But until then, Jason stared at the window, curtains left open as he liked them. He scratched the side of his nose gently and thought of how it was going to be when his father left for the next term. Would Catherine lose it again?

In truth, Jason hated that his father left them for so long all the time, but he knew that when it was time to be in school, he would be pleased that his father was there all the time, and he wouldn't want his father to have quit because his children couldn't think in the long-term.

So Jason turned over the puzzle in his mind and tried to think of a quick, efficient, subtle way to help Uncle James finish it in front of Caroline.

Jason really wanted that Hecate card.

/-/

Rhea lay quietly in her bed, ignoring how Ginny squirmed in her sleep. She did feel bad for her cousin, who was understandably bitter at being left behind. Auntie Molly could be like that, sometimes, especially where Ginny was concerned. Molly was naturally over-protective, and it wasn't exactly secret how much Molly had wanted a daughter, how precious that made Ginny to her. Rhea wasn't sure Ginny could see it yet; perhaps she was too close to the matter, but someday she would understand.

Right now, though, it was probably okay for Ginny to be upset. Rhea supposed she would feel upset if she'd graduated school, and her siblings were all still there, and her parents decided to take a trip without her. Of course, that would be different because Rhea would be older. But still. She couldn't quite fathom not being invited on family trips.

In the morning, she knew, she would wake up, find presents at the foot of her bed, and Ginny and Rhea would both be so full of cheer and excitement that the fact that Ginny had been left behind by her parents would be temporarily forgotten. Until then, Rhea closed her eyes and tried to think of something especially happy, something she wanted for Christmas or somewhere she would go if she were choosing a winter holiday.

Her mind bled from broomsticks to beaches, from sweets to sweaters and hot chocolate by a roaring fireplace, and all of these elements blended together in her dreams as one trip together, flying broomsticks around a beach-side lodge, where Damon was stuffing his face with sweets at Caroline Black's bidding. Rhea could feel, even in her dream, that something was very strange about all of this, but she was given a hat and earmuffs by Sirius Black, and she did as she was bid. She could feel her embarrassment, thinking of how attractive her parents' friend was, but she thought it often, and she avoided speaking to him, even in dreams, because she was always afraid that she would blush or stutter, that Sirius Black would realize that little Rhea Prewett fancied him.

And that, she firmly believed, would be utterly mortifying.

/-/

Christmas morning Jason could have opened his presents alone, like many children did, right after waking up. Catherine and Harry opened theirs alone, mostly because they liked to pick out the best gift and try to make each other jealous at breakfast. Caroline and Jason, however, always gathered up all their gifts and met, in their dressing gowns, in the library to open them together. Jason wasn't sure when they'd started doing this, or why, but he'd done it for as long as he could remember, so it never occurred to him not to.

Dutifully, before he'd even counted or examined his gifts, Jason climbed out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown, and slipped on his slippers. He took the top blanket off his bed and gathered up all his gifts in it, using the blanket as a makeshift sack, holding it out in front of him instead of tossing it over his back, partly to be sure he didn't break anything, partly so that he would see if anything managed to fall out of the sack, and he didn't leave a trail of gifts behind him.

Jason went quickly but carefully to the library, where Caroline was already laying out her own blanket, spreading out the gifts in order of size. She muttered greetings and wishes of a happy Christmas, pausing her meticulous work to rub her eyes. Caroline was not a morning person.

"Ready?" Jason asked, once he'd arranged all of his gifts, as she had, in order of size.

"Yup."

"Alright, let's start."

And they began their tradition of opening their presents, starting with the smallest, all the way up to the largest, one at a time, carefully but eagerly, pausing to share at each gift.

/-/

Caroline sat down at breakfast after opening all the presents and immediately said, "Thank you Mum, thank you Daddy, thank you Auntie Lily and Uncle James."

The adults immediately smiled and told her how welcome she was, and Caroline hid her smirk behind her pumpkin juice as Catherine glowered at her. Caroline was always the first to thank the adults, and she loved making a point of beating her sister to it. She knew how much Catherine hated to lose.

"Thank you for the new chess set, Uncle James and Aunt Lily," Jason said, picking up his fork. "It's nice to have one that doesn't already dislike me."

Caroline snorted into her pumpkin juice and noted her father's turning slightly pink. The Black family had two chess sets, one that had belonged to their father in his school years that the children weren't allowed to play with because the pieces swore terribly, the other one that had been Catherine's from a very young age. The white pieces were very attached to Catherine and didn't like performing for anyone else, and the black pieces were partial to their father, although Caroline made it a point to be sweet to them. They didn't abuse Harry too badly, but they didn't like Jason because he didn't listen to their advice. He didn't really need to, he was craftier than the pieces ever gave him credit for, but they were very vain chess pieces.

"What's the choice for the annual bickering, then?" their father said, ignoring their mother's look of consternation.

Catherine and Harry both began speaking at once before breaking off and glaring at each other.

"Harry went first last year," Aunt Lily said. "Catherine, why don't you share first today?"

Catherine puffed up proudly and said, "Uncle Rabastan and Auntie Delia bought me a diamond necklace."

"Which you will only be wearing when your mother and I give you express permission," their father said sternly. "It's not a toy. Only at one of our houses or the Lestrange Manor. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," Catherine said, obviously too pleased to be upset at the restrictions. She turned to Harry with a triumphant expression.

Harry set down his fork, placed his hands on the table, and said, "Tickets to the Falcons game over Easter holiday. Enough to bring three friends."

Catherine wasn't especially interested in Quidditch, but she dropped her fork, horrified. The Falcons game over Easter was against the Harpies, and Catherine and Caroline were devoted to Gwenog Jones.

Theoretically, Caroline thought, Harry could bring all three of the Blacks with him, but Caroline knew he wouldn't do that. For one thing, she doubted very much that her parents would let her got to a Falcon's game without her father there. For another, Harry had friends from school now, probably more than three to choose from, and if he brought any of the Blacks at all, it would probably be Catherine.

Caroline was insanely jealous, but she hid the twitch of her jaw by paying particular attention to her kippers.

"And you know who you're taking?" Catherine said with forced coolness.

"Hadn't decided," Harry said, the smirk in his voice obvious. "Are you going to make it worth my while to take you?"

Caroline glanced quickly at her sister to see Catherine bristling at the very accurate insinuation.

"What would you need?" Catherine said, narrowing her eyes.

"Not much, Kitty," Harry said, teasing. "Just a capitulation."

Jason dropped his fork and Caroline dropped her jaw, not bothering to stay cool about it anymore. Harry was making a bold move, asking Catherine to willingly admit defeat. Especially as both gifts were rather fabulous, and Catherine could keep hers forever.

Catherine had an expression like she was swallowing something especially unpleasant, but she sniffed and said, "Harry, your gift is better than mine this year. You win."

Harry leaned back casually in his chair and said, "Alright, you can come. Hermione doesn't like Quidditch anyway."

Caroline tried not to snort again at this, but it was almost painful to hold it in. He would have taken Catherine anyway. How perfect. Catherine was practically purple, but she said nothing, poking sullenly at her kippers. This definitely rated well, as far as Christmases went.

/-/

Although Lily had expressed her reticence in the matter, she knew there was no holding back her husband and Sirius, so that night, the three of them and Cara sat down Catherine and Harry, who looked puzzled and a little concerned. After the wonderful Christmas dinner with Remus, the children seemed to think they were in trouble for something. Of course, Lily knew they'd been responsible for the changing colors of the eggnog, in spite of Cara's puzzlement, but because the magic was so impressive and Lily was so pleased that the two had actually done something together instead of in competition, they weren't going to be punished for it.

"Harry, Kitty," James said, "we have some things we're going to give to you two, and they're very powerful and need to be used responsible. They're not toys. Do you understand?"

Harry and Catherine both sat up straighter, nodding eagerly. Lily could have laughed. The minute anyone told either of those two that something wasn't a toy, they wanted to play with it immediately.

James passed the larger of the two parcels to Harry, and Sirius handed the smaller one to his daughter, who looked slightly disappointed that hers was smaller.

They opened them, to find that each had a mirror and Harry's had the silvery cloak that Lily felt so conflicted about. Still, he had a right to it, and it was a family tradition.

"This," James said, touching the cloak, "is a very old, priceless family heirloom."

"Is it an invisibility cloak?" Harry asked eagerly.

James grinned.

"Yeah, it is. It's been handed down through the generations, and now it's time for me to give it to you. But your mother and I want you to promise to use it responsibly."

"I will," Harry said without hesitation, and Lily was grateful that Harry, at least, had his mother's sense of responsibility. He took his word very seriously, and she hoped that would keep him from doing anything too stupid with the cloak. "What are these?"

He held up one of the identical mirrors, and Sirius grinned now.

"These are pretty special," Sirius said eagerly. "Your dad and I used them in school. They're two-way mirrors, see? Say the name of the holder of the other mirror, and you have direct contact. We've tuned them to you two, so you can stop wasting so much ink and parchment when you want to brag at each other."

"But be responsible," Lily said quickly. "Harry, no calling Kitty after curfew. And Kitty, try not to call Harry while he's in class."

The two children nodded eagerly, and Catherine seemed to have forgotten the fact that Harry got something she didn't.

Lily had been nervous about giving them the mirrors, but she did agree with Cara that it would be a great money-saver, and might give Catherine something to do except pout while Harry was at school.

They thanked their parents and hurried off to their respective rooms to test out the mirrors for the first time. Lily sighed, lamenting how quickly they were growing up, and she watched Sirius kiss Cara's lips happily. She wondered how he would top this with Jason and Caroline, and supposed he would probably buy another very expensive set of two-way mirrors, give them to his younger children, and call it a day. Never mind that they didn't really need them. Sirius never needed an excuse to spoil his children.

 **A/N: So, that was the first Christmas with the Potters and Blacks! Already halfway to Catherine starting school!**

 **Review Prompt: If you could only be friends with one Black child, which would it be?**

 **I'd be friends with Jason. I feel like we'd have wonderful conversations, and he'd listen instead of talking over me…**

 **-C**


	11. A Concept of Mortality

**A/N: I'm feeling generous this week. Just sayin'. This chapter wasn't earned. I'm giving it away anyway.**

 **-C**

On the first day back at Hogwarts after the break, Sirius had quite a shock, first in a letter, then in the morning paper.

The letter, from his cousin, Narcissa, arrived first, only barely. Sitting at the Head Table, already slightly pained from leaving his children and wife behind – as painful as that always was – he opened the letter and nearly lost his composure at the table in front of everyone.

 _Sirius,_

 _I am sorry to have to put this sort of news in a letter, but I wanted to tell you before you heard about it from the papers or someone at the school._

 _My father just died last night. I suppose it was going to happen sooner or later, but I certainly wasn't prepared for it. He was so healthy at Christmas._

 _There's an obituary in the paper. Lucius wrote it. The details are there, but the funeral will be at the weekend. I realize you're very busy, but you know it will be expected that you be there, with Cara and the children. I don't know how you want to prepare them for it. If you'd like, Cara and I can sit down with them and try to explain. But then, perhaps you'd rather do it yourself. Let me know._

 _Andromeda will be there, actually, so that's something. Her daughter might come as well. And of course, I will be taking Draco out of school. Be kind to him today, Sirius. He was very fond of his grandfather._

 _I hope your day gets better from here._

 _Love,_

 _Cissy_

He set down the letter and flipped anxiously through the paper, much to Remus's alarm, until he reached the obituary. It was a basic thing, pompous and teeming with a lack of personality. It was almost suffocating to Sirius, how little could be determined about Uncle Cygnus from the three small paragraphs in the paper. Narcissa really should have written it, but then, that wasn't done. She was supposed to be too grief-stricken to be able to write an obituary. Sirius scanned the details, which put the funeral where his father's had been, where Regulus's had been.

Sirius's children had never been close to Uncle Cygnus, mostly because he was a curmudgeonly old man who didn't particularly like children, but he sent them gifts every year on Christmas and their birthdays, and they were almost certainly written somewhere into his will.

What was he going to tell them? What was Cara going to say?

Setting down the paper, ignoring Remus's quizzical look, Sirius crossed to Albus, who seemed to be expecting him.

"I need to go home at lunchtime," Sirius said softly.

"I understand," Albus said. "If you are late, I will cover your classes until you return."

Sirius murmured his thanks and returned to his seat, glancing over at Draco, who was reading a letter, no doubt from his mother, and his pale face looked even paler than usual. Sirius did not really remember the deaths of his grandparents, but they had never mattered to him. His Uncle Alphard, his father, his brother, they had mattered, and he remembered each funeral in painful and utter clarity. This was a morning, unfortunately, that Draco would never forget.

/-/

Ourania flipped through the newspaper thoughtfully.

"Mum, what's a pee-tree-arch?"

Their mother looked up, puzzled, and glanced down at the word her daughter was pointing at in the newspaper.

"Pay-tree-arc." She picked up the paper after a moment, a stunned expression on her face. "Fabian!"

Their father poked his head into the kitchen, looking concerned.

"I know you told me not to put my shoes there," he said nervously, "but it really was supposed to only be for a couple of seconds. But then I realized I'd left my papers in the bedroom and—"

"Never mind that," their mother said, waiving off his rambling with her hand. "Cygnus Black."

Their father scratched his nose thoughtfully.

"Um…Sirius's uncle? What about him?"

She thrust the paper at him, but before he could read it, Ourania said, "He's died."

Her mother whipped around to look at her, stunned.

"It said that in the paper," she said with a shrug. "Pee-tree-arch of the secondary branch of the Black family dead last night."

"She can say secondary but she can't say patriarch?" her father said, puzzled. He looked at the article.

"Why were you reading this?" her mother asked.

"I like reading the obituaries," Ourania said, shrugging again. "Some people in them have very interesting names."

"She can say obituary but she can't say patriarch?" her father said, shaking his head in wonder.

"Never mind that," her mother said again, waving their father off. "Right, well, eat your breakfast. Fabian, come with me."

The four children watched their mother pull their father out into the hall, speaking quietly about something, but Cora, who had the best hearing, shook her head. She couldn't hear them.

Ourania looked across at her twin. He shrugged at her, and she shrugged back, and all four children turned their attention to their breakfast as ordered. Cygnus Black meant nothing to them, anyway.

/-/

Draco sat down in Double Transfiguration and looked up at the board with a perfectly straight face. Professor McGonagall gave him a shrewd look, sizing him up, and then seeming to understand that he did not want words of sympathy, she turned away from him, telling Pansy Parkinson to get her book out immediately and stop gossiping with Daphne Greengrass.

Blaise had given him a knowing look at breakfast and Draco's cousin Sirius nodded to him with a sympathetic smile in the hall, but otherwise it had gone undiscussed, and that was just fine for Draco. The funeral would be difficult enough, knowing his mother was bound to be emotional. If he could only make it through the week, perhaps he would stop feeling like the world was moving in slow motion.

/-/

Hermione sat with Neville in Herbology, watching the dirigible plums as they tried to sketch them, and they discussed the morning paper.

"So how is Professor Black related to this Cygnus Black?" she asked.

"He's his uncle," Neville said, frowning at the dirigible plum thoughtfully. "He's Draco's grandfather. And he's my…." he frowned, looking up and counting. "Um, second or third cousin removed once or twice? We're related. It's hard to keep track of how. My gran could tell you."

"It seems like everyone in the wizarding world is related," Hermione said, carefully and lightly drawing in the stems.

"Not everyone. But there's a handful of families who took blood purity seriously for a very long time, and now it's less blood purity and more social strata. It's silly, but to some people it matters. The Blacks, the Malfoys, the Lestranges, you'll only really see them marrying certain kinds of families over the previous generations."

Hermione frowned. From what she'd read about the wizarding war that went on just a matter of decades ago, this was the sort of snobbery that went mad and killed an awful lot of people. She hoped that such behavior wouldn't be carried out in their generation, but she supposed only time would tell.

/-/

Sirius tried to focus on his Hufflepuff first years, but it was difficult. They could tell he was out of sorts, and several of them probably guessed why from reading the paper or hearing the news from friends and he noticed that they were all especially attentive and productive, perhaps to make him feel better. As soon as the bell rang, Sirius tossed his books haphazardly into his bag and hurried out of the castle, eager to get off the grounds. As soon as he stepped out of the gates, he Disapparated to Grimmauld Place.

He hadn't sent word ahead, but Cara was not surprised to see him when he walked in the door, dropping his bag, holding her to his chest, more for himself than for her. She gripped at his arms and said, "They don't know yet."

Sirius nodded, and she led him down to the kitchen where their children were eating their lunch. Kreacher looked out of sorts as well, and Sirius knew that he must have heard the news, either from Cara or the paper.

"Daddy!" Catherine cried, eyes wide at the sight of him. She opened her mouth, clearly about to ask if he'd brought them presents, but she must have sensed that something was wrong, because her mouth snapped shut again and she dropped her sandwich, hurrying around the table to hug him. He picked her up, which he hadn't done in years, holding his little girl, his very special little girl, and telling himself that he could have this talk with his children, that everything would turn out alright.

"Your father and I need to tell you something," Cara said gently as he let Catherine stand on her own feet again. "All of you."

The children looked up at them expectantly, silently, patiently. Sirius felt tightness in his chest, and he told himself that this wasn't the war. This was a natural part of life. As Narcissa had written, Uncle Cygnus was going to die at some point or another. So why did he see so plainly in front of his eyes the corpse of Caradoc Dearborn?

"Do you remember my telling you at Christmas that Great Uncle Cygnus was very, very old?" Sirius said, sitting down at the lunch table, ignoring the sandwich Kreacher put in front of him. All three children nodded. "Well, last night, he passed away."

Sirius paused, watching their faces, hoping to see some kind of understanding on each of them so that he didn't have to explain further. He didn't know where his children would have gathered a concept of death, but he hoped it didn't have to be from him. He touched his forearm under the table and felt slightly sick to his stomach.

Catherine nodded slowly and Jason's lips tightened to tell his parents that he understood. Caroline frowned slightly, thoughtfully, and Sirius felt the nausea building.

"Caro," Cara said, "do you understand what your father is saying?"

"Erm, maybe," she said, scrunching her face. "He's gone, right? Like, he's not…alive anymore?"

Sirius actually breathed a sigh of relief, and he and Cara nodded. Cara explained that they were going to a funeral on the weekend, all together, and that it was a very serious occasion. They were expected to behave very well, and that there would be lots of attention on them from a lot of strangers.

"You'll all be brilliant, I know," Sirius said earnestly, kissing each of his children, wishing he didn't have to do this to them. "Your mum is going to take you to get some new clothes, okay? I have to go back to school, but just get them whatever you think is best. Take Dromeda or Cissy if you need to."

Cara nodded, but she didn't need to, and he knew it. She had a very good understanding of her role in pureblood society now, not like the beginning of their marriage. She no longer needed constant advice and guidance. And in a way, that saddened Sirius as much as the thought that his children understood death.

/-/

Remus poured his friend a drink after dinner that night. He hadn't seen Sirius's eyes so sunken and hollow since the end of the war, and he wondered if Sirius realized that he kept rubbing at his left forearm when he was lost in thought.

"This isn't about your uncle," Remus said knowingly. "You weren't that close. What's bothering you?"

Sirius took the glass in his hands, frowning at the amber liquid before downing it in one.

"D'you know when you first understood death, Moony?"

About his children, then, Remus realized, sitting down across from Sirius pouring another when Sirius put the glass down.

"Understood it fully? Mary."

"But like, knew what it was, knew it was final."

"Very young, Sirius. Probably not long after I was bitten."

Sirius hummed his acknowledgement of this. Obviously he had forgotten to whom he was speaking.

"I knew what it was, sort of, pretty young," Sirius said, squinting. "My cousin killed my brother's cat. We told him it was an accident. I never really thought about whether he believed us or not. I saw her do it. But I don't think I ever realized what death really was, or what it really meant, or that it could happen to people, or people I knew, until Mary died." His fist clenched around the glass. He downed it in one again. "Until she was murdered."

He set down the glass again, pushing it toward Remus. Remus hesitated. After all, they did have to teach classes again in the morning. But he realized that Sirius needed this, and Sirius had always had a remarkably high tolerance. Remus poured him another.

"My children knew what death was," Sirius said. "I didn't have to tell them. Caro wasn't sure, but she knew. Where do they even learn these things, Moony, if not from parents?"

"I really don't know, Padfoot. Maybe it's instinctive."

Sirius waved away the suggestion as if swatting it back at Remus physically.

"And because of the stupid press and traditions and the like," Sirius said after downing the third glass in one and slamming the glass down on the table, "I have to take them to the bloody funeral, and they have to be exposed to the most disgusting part of our culture. I don't want this for my children, Moony. I never wanted this."

Remus thought about asking why Sirius didn't just abstain, but he knew why. Narcissa needed him, Narcissa expected the children to be there, and Sirius owed an awful lot to Narcissa Malfoy. It wasn't just a family bond. Remus didn't fully understand, and he was afraid to ask, but in the course of the things those two had done for Dumbledore during the war a dependency formed between them and Cara and Severus that was as touching as it was mysterious as it was terrifying. Loyalty being everything to Sirius, no matter how Sirius felt about the funeral practices of his sector of society, he would do what he had to do for his cousin.

"Harry came by my class between periods," Remus said softly. "He was worried when you didn't make it to his class today. I don't think he really understands your family dynamic."

"No one does who hasn't lived through it," Sirius said with a snort. Remus raised the bottle to pour another glass, but Sirius put his hand over the rim and shook his head. Remus set it down again and leaned back in his chair. "We're a dying breed, Remus. The war changed the most important things, but even with everything we accomplished, things haven't really changed, have they? The stupid status quo is what it's always been." His hands clenched and he growled slightly. "Fuck, I'm itching for a cigarette."

Remus's eyebrows shot up before he could stop himself. As far as he knew, Sirius gave up smoking at Catherine's birth and hadn't had a cigarette since, even when he was at his most anxious during Caroline's difficult early months. Part of it was being at Hogwarts all the time, part of it being at home with his children the rest, but mostly Remus thought it had to do with Sirius wanting to make a break with the man he'd had to be during the war, as much as he possibly could. There was no getting rid of the Dark Mark on his arm, but he could ditch the cigarettes.

"Sirius…."

Remus watched his friend's nostrils flare, and then Sirius shook his head, his jaw twitching with obvious strain as he began to pace.

"I don't have any, Moony, don't worry." He groaned again. After a few paces he stopped, throwing up his arms like a capitulation, and he collapsed back into his chair and said, "I haven't failed my children."

He said it as a statement, but Remus knew it was really a question.

"No, you haven't," Remus said softly. "They adore you. They're intelligent, talented, wonderful, beautiful children, Sirius. So they understand what death is. Wouldn't you rather they understand it from a book than from a war brewing all around them, or a crazed relative killing their cat, or being told they might kill someone if they weren't kept away from humans once a month?" A ghost of pain passed across Sirius's face, and he shrugged. Remus continued, "So the world isn't totally changed from the war. These things take time. The important thing is that you tell them why it's still not right, that you give them an opportunity to continue the work we started. We're not young anymore, Sirius. It's not our fight. We can't attack problems with spells and subterfuge. The enemy doesn't have a name, a face, a body. The evils are much more insidious than that. Their fight is going to be safer, but it won't be any easier. And as long as you can prepare them for that, you won't fail them. I know you won't."

Sirius nodded numbly, and Remus could see that his friend's eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Remus respectfully turned away, recapping the firewhiskey bottle and replacing it to the cupboard to give Sirius time to compose himself and wipe his eyes. Remus couldn't pretend this was going to be easy for any of them, but he was glad that he didn't have to have the worries Sirius had.

"I should probably sleep this stuff off," Sirius said, and Remus turned to see Sirius recomposed, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I've got classes in the morning."

"We both do," Remus said with a sympathetic smile. "Next week, life goes back to normal, and we can just keep pushing on, right?"

Sirius nodded again, clapped Remus on the shoulder, and took off to his own quarters. Remus glanced at the cupboard contemplating a glass for himself, but he knew it was a bad idea. Some demons should be suffered sober.

 **A/N: So, reality is breaking into Sirius's perfect world, and he's beginning to deal with his children growing. Not easy, for sure.**

 **Review Prompt: Where do you think the kids got a concept of death?**

 **(I don't outline it in the story. But I like to think it's Phineas Nigellus.)**

 **-C**


	12. Midnight Duel

It was Blaise Zabini's fault, and he would regret it for some time after. In the moment, though, it hadn't seemed like such a bad thing to say.

There were worse things Blaise could have called Hermione Granger than ugly. Actually, he felt he'd been fairly polite. He didn't insult her blood status, not that he really cared about blood status. He didn't make a comment about her know-it-all behavior. He just pointed out a fact about her appearance that he thought was true and perfectly justified. The Gryffindors might even have let it go, had Draco not felt the need to support Blaise's assertion.

Longbottom was upset when Hermione grew upset, perhaps even more so than she was. And annoying Longbottom angered Potter, and then Weasley went along for the ride.

Gryffindors and their overactive sense of chivalry and honor. They hadn't figured out yet that the world operated on subtleties.

"Let's settle this the old-fashioned way," Draco said smoothly, smirking.

Potter's nostrils flared and he nodded.

"Duel," both boys said in unison, and Blaise rolled his eyes picking up his book, wanting to walk away.

"Whose fighting who?" Weasley asked, obviously eager with the idea of Granger fighting Draco. If Granger had the guts to do such a thing, Blaise would find a way to end the foolishness. She knew far too many spells for Draco to take a risk on it.

"I'll fight," Potter said stubbornly when Granger began to say they should just forget about it. Her cheeks turned pink and she huffed in frustration, and Blaise smirked slightly. Because Potter came into it, Draco would offer himself up, with Blaise as second. It was a Gryffindor weakness in his friend.

When everything was decided and a time and place selected, Blaise said softly, "You know this is stupid, right? Unless you've done studying I don't know about, Potter knows more spells than you. Not that any of it is any good in a duel."

"We're not actually going to fight," Draco said, sneering at Blaise for the suggestion. "I'm going to tip off Filch that they're going to be there after hours and they'll get detention. Gryffindor loses points. Problem solved."

Blaise nodded, but he watched Draco through narrowed eyes. He wasn't so sure he believed that Draco would sell out his childhood…friend of sorts.

The Gryffindor weakness.

/-/

Fabian, spotting a familiar shock of pink hair in the cafeteria, crossed the room with a grin and sat down across from the exhausted Nymphadora Tonks.

"How's training treating you?" he said, teasingly.

Tonks pouted, but playfully. She had a lightness that came both from being raised outside the insanity of pureblood mania, and from having Ted Tonks as a father. Life was a laugh to Ted, which Fabian suspected was part of what attracted Andromeda to him in the first place, just like half what Dorcas liked about Fabian was that he made her laugh, even when there wasn't much to laugh about.

"Well, training would probably be fine if I could stay on my feet," she said, poking at her fish fillet. "How graceful do you really have to be in this job, anyway? If Mad-Eye were to be believed, I'm expected to be a fucking ballerina."

Fabian chuckled and shook his head, pulling out his sandwich.

"Mad-Eye holds everyone to impossible standards, but trust me, in trying to impress him, you're going to be top of your training class, easy. Just keep your chin up. All the best duelists in the Order were hand-picked and trained by Mad-Eye, and the only one who managed to really impress him was Sirius Black. Why do you think Mad-Eye picked you? It's not your face-changing, although that's a plus. He knows this stuff's in your veins, Tonks. Chin up. Work your arse off. You'll be glad you did, in the end."

/-/

Dean raised his eyebrows as he turned over, watching Neville, Harry, and Ron sneak out of their beds in the dead of night as though they were being stealthy. Whatever they were up to, Dean had a feeling they actually thought no one had noticed them leave. He pulled his watch to his face and grabbed his wand.

" _Lumos._ "

Quarter to midnight. What in the name of Merlin were those three up to?

/-/

In the middle of the night, Rabastan woke in a sweat, his wife still fast asleep beside him.

It had been so real. He had been in that room, just a floor beneath where he now lay, and Cara had driven the sword through the Dark Lord, not once but several times, before she collapsed. He had seen the light leave the Dark Lord's unnatural eyes. He had seen the Dark Lord bleed like any other man, no longer the inhuman thing that Rabastan had come to fear.

A shiver ran through him and he climbed out of bed, rushing to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and pointedly ignoring the hideous skull and snake on his forearm. To think he had once been so proud of it, so terribly proud until his sister-in-law suggested they use the most vulnerable and innocent person Rabastan had ever known, that they violate and use Cara to tempt Sirius back into the fold, to coax him into turning on his friends.

And Rabastan's brother agreed with his stupid wife, his crazy wife, and offered up their half-sister as though she was theirs to ruin.

Rabastan gripped the edge of the sink as the bile built up in his throat. Most nights he could avoid the nightmares, pretend it never happened. He often took potions to avoid the dreams, not caring if he became dependent. Drug dependency could be forgiven as long as it didn't hurt his family. But to relive those days every night…. Surely Sirius took something. It would drive anyone to madness.

With shaking hands, Rabastan uncorked the bottle and drank the putrid orange liquid, nearly a full dose. Some of it spilled into the sink, his hands shook so violently, but he held his hand over his mouth to force himself to swallow it, to swallow as his throat attempted to shoot it back out in a vicious gag. The first few doses he'd ever tried to take were lost that way, before covering his own mouth and forcing the disgusting fluid down became as much a reflex as reaching for the stuff in the first place.

He had to get more. He couldn't ask Severus for it. Severus was too honest these days. He wouldn't make him any more without telling Sirius or Narcissa, or worse still, Cara.

Rabastan covered the mark on his arm with a tense hand, and he dug his nails into the skin around it as though somehow this would make it go away, as if he could gouge it out, rip it off his skin. He gripped until his nails drew blood, and then he felt revulsion and exhaustion, and he rinsed his hands and arms, clearing away the evidence of what he'd done. He climbed back into bed with Delia, but he did not wrap his arms around her. He didn't want his messy-feeling hands touching her, not until he could pretend he felt clean again.

/-/

The invisibility cloak had been the first thing Harry thought of when Draco named the time and place, but he knew it couldn't possibly hide all four of them properly, and he had a feeling this didn't constitute using it responsibly, as he promised his mother he would do. Instead, he and Neville and Ron and Hermione were in the trophy room, waiting anxiously.

"He's late," Hermione hissed. "D'you think he and Blaise are standing us up?"

Harry wasn't sure, but he hoped she was wrong. He wouldn't put it past Draco not to show up, to think it was all some kind of hilarious prank, but then, he also wouldn't put it past Draco do something…worse.

/-/

As the clock struck midnight, Lucius poured himself another glass of wine. Narcissa was, no doubt, fast asleep in her study. Lucius only slept every other night, ever since the war. It was a vigil he used to hold, expecting to be summoned by the Dark Lord and wanting to be ready. He couldn't seem to stop, when the vigil became waiting for Draco to wake and scream for attention in the night, or when he became too old for such things, staying awake to get work done. Lucius did not have work, and Draco was not in the house, and the Dark Lord was dead.

Those words still felt strange to Lucius, and some days it felt as though they could not be true. All other days, it felt as though his past with the Dark Lord was a dream, like the Dark Lord's death was waking up from that dream, and truth happened in that moment. His life was different, and yet in so many ways exactly as it had always been.

He held on to surface things and routines, little pieces of his life that he could regulate and maintain, things his wife could not control, things the ever-changing world could not take from him. Traditions, expectations, the way of things. This was what he wanted in life, because it was the only thing in his control, the only thing that felt real every day. Ever since he learned of his wife's betrayal, of her part in killing the Dark Lord, he had not been sure what to believe, who to believe, if anything could be believed at all. He almost wished he could think that he taught her how to lie so well, but judging from her cousin, it seemed to come to her naturally, something in her blood.

He took three healthy gulps of wine and set down the glass a little too forcefully. Dobby would clean the broken glass in the morning, put the glass back together, clear away the little wine stains on papers. Lucius could hardly bring himself to care.

There was a time when he cared about things, but those things were a shadow in his past now. The sanctity of blood purity, the supremacy of his own station in life, the status of his child and his wife as procured by his efforts for the Dark Lord. Even when he didn't enjoy what he did for the Dark Lord, he always believed in the greater cause of what they were doing. The one thing he had truly worked for in his life, and his wife's efforts tore it away from him.

What legacy did he have to leave for his son? What control did he really have on his future, on his son's future?

/-/

Draco told himself that he wasn't going to go. He'd told Filch. He'd done what he'd told Blaise he would do. If the Gryffindors wanted to be foolish and walk into a carefully and obviously laid trap, what was it to him? Perhaps they shouldn't take chivalry so seriously.

But then he thought of the look in his mother's eyes if she found out what he'd done, and he couldn't stand the thought of it. He groaned, sat up in bed, and made sure Blaise was asleep before slipping his dressing gown on, grabbing his wand, and hurrying as quickly and quietly as he possibly could to the meeting place.

/-/

Pansy sat up, frowning. She'd fallen asleep in the common room, it seemed, trying to finish her History paper. Why had she woken so suddenly?

The door to the common room closed and Pansy glanced at her watch.

Two minutes past midnight. Who would be coming in at this time of night?

And then, another thought crossed her mind as she gathered up her things and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

Who would be going out this time of night?

/-/

When Draco arrived alone, Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Where's Blaise?"

"He's not coming," Draco said, and Ron made a sound of disgust. "But Filch is. We need to leave."

"How do we know he's telling us the truth?" Ron prompted. "That he's not leading us into a trap?"

Harry stepped forward, looking into Draco's eyes in the soft light of the room. The familiar gray was earnest, and Harry nodded slowly.

"I trust him," he said. "Where do we go?"

Draco considered the question before ushering the other four to follow him, and they climbed a staircase, going through a hidden staircase behind a door pretending to be a wall, which led almost directly to the library.

"What was that?" Hermione hissed, and the boys all froze in the middle of the hallway, straining their ears to figure out what she heard. Just as Harry was about to say it was nothing, the soft padding of tiny feet could be heard.

He wasn't sure about the others, but he was holding his breath, praying it wasn't Mrs. Norris, that it was Posy, or some other of the many Hogwarts cats.

No such luck. Around the corner came Mrs. Norris, and before the students could hurry into a nearby classroom and lock the door behind them, Filch came rushing out of a nearby passageway behind a suit of armor, raising a finger and beckoning them toward him.

It didn't occur to them to run, although in hindsight Harry wished it had. Perhaps they would have been caught anyway, but the walk across to Filch, meek and contrite, was a terrible feeling.

"Let's see about this," Filch said, frowning, leading them to Professor McGonagall's office.

/-/

Ron looked at his slippers, mostly because he didn't know what else to do. The ears on Neville's fuzzy bunny slippers were wilted slightly, and this was a bit how Ron felt.

"I am ashamed of all of you," Professor McGonagall was saying sternly. "You will all serve detention for this breech of conduct, and I will be taking twenty points off."

"Twenty?" Ron protested weakly.

"Each," she added, and Ron looked up in horror, instantly wishing he hadn't.

Eighty points off Gryffindor, twenty off Slytherin. But then, he reasoned, she could have done worse. She could have taken thirty, forty, even fifty each. It wasn't unheard of for a person to lose fifty points at once. The twins had done it, losing a hundred points between them in one swoop. He tried to imagine losing two hundred points for Gryffindor at once, but the idea made him slightly nauseous.

No matter how many times she asked, none of them, not even Malfoy, gave her a reason why they were out of bed. It would have been easy for them to try to get each other into trouble, and the thought did cross Ron's mind, but he was impressed that Malfoy didn't take the opportunity, either. Whatever his reasoning, Malfoy did try to warn them about Filch, and they all fled together. From the sound of it, they would all be serving detention together, as well.

He could scarcely believe that the thought actually occurred to him in this way, but Ron thought that maybe Malfoy was alright.

Besides, Malfoy would have to be disciplined by Snape on top of everything, and Ron didn't really wish that on anyone.

Well, not on anyone except maybe Zabini.

The children walked out into the corridor, reluctantly making their way to their dormitories after the chastisement.

"Zabini must have ratted," Ron grumbled.

"I doubt it," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Draco probably ratted. But then he probably changed his mind, and it was too late. At least we all got caught together."

To Ron, this wasn't much of a comfort, but he was sticking with his theory. As far as he was concerned, Blaise Zabini was the enemy.

/-/

Neville and Harry waited for Ron to fall asleep before they slipped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door.

"What d'you think?" Neville whispered. "Detention? I mean, what is she going to have us do?"

Harry scratched his nose thoughtfully.

"I really don't know," Harry said. "My dad told stories, but I can't remember who gave which detentions. I imagine a lot of them were McGonagall…."

"Will Professor Black tell us?"

"I doubt it," Harry said, scrunching up his nose. "Uncle Sirius has strict instructions from my mum on this sort of thing. But you know who might be able to remember."

Neville nodded. Catherine had a great memory for stories. She could recite all the tales of trouble her father and Harry's father got into, at least all the tales the men thought their children were old enough to hear.

"Isn't it after her curfew?" Neville asked nervously as Harry pulled out the mirror he'd shown Neville on the train back to school. "Wasn't that one of your rules?"

"Kitty won't tell," Harry said. "Kitty." Nothing. "Catherine."

It took a moment, but there was the sound of groaning and then Catherine's face appeared in the mirror. She frowned up at them.

"I was sleeping, Harry. It's definitely past curfew. Remember what your mum said?"

"Yeah, it's an emergency."

"What's up?"

She rubbed her eyes. Neville was struck that she was still pretty even when her hair was sticking at odd angles and her eyes were slightly puffy. That didn't seem fair.

"We've got our first detention."

Catherine sat up straighter, her eyes going wide.

"Really?" she said eagerly. "What did you do?"

"That's just it," Neville said morosely. "We didn't even do anything. We got caught out after hours, but we hadn't even done anything and we all got detention."

"McGonagall?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"How many people?"

"Five."

She raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"Wow, Harry, late night party? Don't answer that. She'll have you do something productive. I dunno. Grounds work? Polishing? Mulching?"

"That means we'll be with Hagrid or Filch," Neville said nervously.

"I'm hoping for Hagrid," Harry said solemnly. "Thanks, Kitty. We'll keep you posted. Maybe you can come up with something to help us…lighten the burden so to speak?"

She was wide awake now, and Neville noticed that her expression was so mischievous that it was almost frightening, and she said, "It would be my pleasure, Harry. Caro and I will consult discretely. You're in good hands."

So why did Neville feel so nervous?

 **A/N: Their first detention. I'm grinning like a proud mum.**

 **Review Prompt: What d'you think Kitty and Caro will come up with to make detention more fun?**

 **-C**


	13. Plausible Deniability

**A/N: Alright, I'm breaking my own rules and updating early. But to be fair, it's going to be hard to lock y'all in and earn reviews if the pace doesn't pick up a bit. Consider this bonus while I work through Harry's first year.**

 **-C**

Neville, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco all received detention notices the following morning, and Neville tried not to grin at Harry across the table.

They were mulching, just like Catherine had predicted. They were going to be mulching the school cabbages. Ron seemed to take this the worst, although Hermione hadn't said much since they were caught the night before. Neville supposed she wasn't used to being in trouble, and it was proving difficult for her to come to terms with this new state of being. She didn't seem especially bothered with mulching, but she wasn't saying anything else, either. Draco was slightly pink at the Slytherin table, but otherwise there was no sign of irritation.

Speaking of irritation…

"Harry," the voice of Professor Black said sternly. "A word."

Neville had known Harry for all of his life, but never had he seen Harry look quite so small as in that moment. Neville wanted to be a fly on the wall for the conversation, but he was also afraid of what he might hear.

/-/

While her father was focusing on the stresses of printing, Luna focused her efforts on cooking. Stewed prunes, roasted goat's cheese and pear patties, and a few slices of bread. Nothing too fancy, but something she knew her father would enjoy. He could be so particular with his food when he was working.

Luna carefully slipped the patties onto the bread and spooned the prunes to the other side of the plate before pouring him a cool glass of water. He wouldn't want water, but it would be good for him.

If she was lucky and it was a good day, she would be able to slip into the room unnoticed, slip back out again before he looked up, and he would eat the food without thinking about it. Everything would be fine. If it was not a day for luck, he would be disturbed when she came in, complain that it was water instead of tea, tell her something about the food – maybe even something complimentary, and then take time out of work to eat.

Luna pressed on the door to see her father working busily with the printing, the whirring of the press as he arranged the pages just-so. He didn't look up as she entered, setting the plate on the little work table in the corner where he would move back and forth from while working. He didn't glance as she slipped out of the room again, and she rolled forward onto the balls of her feet, watching as he worked. She didn't count the time, but it was likely several long minutes later when he crossed to the little work table again, not noticing consciously what he was doing as he picked up the sandwich, looking over his papers as he chomped on the patty, washing it down with water without complaint, and going back to the press again.

She smiled. It was a lucky day, indeed.

/-/

Caroline and Catherine pretended to be playing chess, and instead Catherine pulled out her notes, which were written in code in case their mother found them.

"Sure this is complete?" Catherine asked, narrowing her eyes. "These aren't our parents they're dealing with, Caro. It's other adults, without their weaknesses."

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"All humans have the same basic weaknesses," she explained to her big sister. "The primary one is vanity. Appeal to vanity, and you've got the in for almost anything."

Catherine nodded, and Caroline knew it wasn't too much of a stretch. Catherine was very good at playing on vanity, as it was the only way she and Adrasteia could stand to be around each other for longer than five minutes at a time.

"So when I'm done here," Catherine said, scribbling down the last of their ideas, "you need to distract mum long enough for me to get a message to Harry, okay?"

"How long is that?" Caroline asked, brushing her skirt over her legs lazily.

Catherine hesitated. This, Caroline thought, was fascinating. Perhaps Catherine was calculating how long it would take to transfer the code to something Harry would understand and send him an owl. But then, the post would take ages to get to him, far longer than it would take for his detention to start, surely.

"Keep her occupied for ten minutes," Catherine finally said, "and I'll make it work."

This was a far shorter span of time than Caroline had anticipated, but when she got her cue, she went down to the drawing room, where her mother was writing letters for Auntie Lily's research fundraising. Caroline sat at her mother's feet.

"Yes, Caro?"

"Mum, I have a question. It's terribly important."

"What is it, Caro?"

"Where do babies come from?"

Her mother nearly dropped her quill.

Catherine wanted ten minutes? She sorely underestimated Caroline's abilities, but that was fine. She'd get a good thirty minutes, at the very least.

/-/

Certain his sister hadn't seen him sneak into the attic, Jason slipped behind a sofa and twisted his neck slightly and looked up at his sister, who was sitting on a far sofa with her legs folded beneath her. She pulled a mirror out from under the parchment she was carrying, and he frowned, confused. From what he'd heard her saying to Caroline, this information swap was urgent. She was clearly spending too much time with Adrasteia if she was pausing to check her reflection before sending off a letter.

"Harry," she said at the mirror, and Jason frowned, puzzled. Catherine quickly checked her watch and nodded slightly to herself.

Jason nearly jumped when he heard Harry's voice answer, "Hey, what have you got?"

The mirror, it seemed, was a two-way mirror. Jason had read about such things, but he knew they were very expensive. Harry and Catherine hadn't bought these themselves, so they must have been a gift, probably from their fathers. The sensation was mostly foreign to him, but Jason did feel a stab of jealousy that such a valuable, useful thing had been given to Catherine instead of him, but he reminded himself of his mother's comments about how his father did not have a favorite child.

Maybe Jason would get one someday, too. Maybe if he dropped hints when he was Catherine's age, or Harry's age, he could use his stored-up capital to get his father to buy him a two-way mirror set. He supposed he'd probably use it with Caroline, who would appreciate it when she was the only one not at Hogwarts.

He realized he'd zoned out and he'd missed quite a bit of the conversation between Catherine and Harry. He leaned forward slightly, forcing himself to focus in case he was going to learn something important.

One really never knew.

/-/

Draco raised his eyebrows when Harry gestured for him to follow him into an empty first floor classroom at the very beginning of lunch, but he did follow.

"I need you to do something," Harry said softly. "It'll make detention loads better, but you have to promise to do it when you get the signal."

Draco should have known that Harry would find some way to lessen the blow of the trouble they were in. That was what Harry and Catherine always did when they were going to get in trouble for something. If he didn't know better, didn't know that Harry hadn't had time to do any such thing, he would have suspected that the two had consulted on whatever this plan was of Harry's.

"What is the likelihood this won't work?" Draco asked mildly.

"About ten percent."

"That's high."

"It's untested. We're working on a bit of a time crunch."  
A reasonable assertion, Draco thought with a shrug.

"What do I do?"

Harry explained that on their usual signal, he was supposed to use his wand to shower the cabbages in yellow sparks.

"Why me?"

"Because Hermione wouldn't agree to it, and you mastered sparks ages ago."

And there it was, the appeal to Draco's ego. Draco could not help but agree.

/-/

Ourania looked at her Auntie Molly like she'd been asked to do a backflip. It had to be a joke. It wasn't a funny joke, but it had to be a joke.

"Go on," Auntie Molly said eagerly. "How many cups of flour will I need for three batches of cookies?"

"Loads," Ourania said, raising a challenging eyebrow before walking calmly to the back garden, smirking slightly at her aunt's frustrated sigh.

Serves her right, trying to trick children into doing maths.

/-/

Dinner was a quick affair for Draco, not that he couldn't have taken his time, but mostly because he spent the early part of dinner locked in a bathroom stall, practicing his sparks. For some reason, his nerves were causing them to come out orange about once in every four tries, but with practice he started getting the yellow to be more consistent. He wasn't sure why the yellow mattered, but if Harry asked for it specially, it probably mattered.

Once he got ten yellow sparks in a row, Draco went to dinner feeling more confident that whatever happened at detention, it wouldn't be a total bust.

/-/

Lily got home from work and new at once that something had happened. James set tea in front of her and retrieved a plate of biscuits, and she couldn't help it – her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She'd known her husband too long not to be concerned.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said with a false innocence that did not become him.

"James."

He sighed and handed Lily a letter on thick parchment, one she recognized as coming from Hogwarts. Her eyes skimmed over the familiar hand, from Professor McGonagall, and she rubbed her forehead absently with the heel of her hand.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," Lily muttered, more to herself than to James. "At least it's only being up after hours."

"He is only eleven," James said.

She closed her eyes and tried not to get frustrated with her husband. It was very clear that he was holding in his excitement at this letter, at knowing that his son had his first detention. And then it struck Lily that James was right. Harry was only eleven, and if he was going to cause trouble he was bound to start small.

The fact that Catherine would be at school next year as well caused Lily's stomach to tighten uneasily. Things could only get worse from here.

/-/

Walking down to detention felt like an out-of-body experience for Hermione, who had never been in any real trouble in her life. She'd been scolded by parents for minor things, but even that had made her so heart-sick that she worked especially hard never to make the same mistake twice. She desperately hated disappointing her parents, whom she loved.

Hagrid set each of the students up with a bucket of mulch and manure, and a scoop, and set them to work on the cabbage patch. He wasn't giving them a lecture, which Hermione thought was kind of him, and as far as he seemed to be concerned, they were simply five volunteers who thought it might be fun to shovel dung on the cabbage patch out of the goodness of their hearts. Actually, the work was quite calming, and Hermione could see herself doing this while trying to clear her head sometime, if Hagrid wasn't opposed to the company. It was an excellent opportunity to think deeply without distraction, to sort through things.

For example, she was able to reflect back on the day and think that Neville and Harry were in far too good of spirits for who people about to serve their first detention. And while Draco looked anxious, it didn't seem to be about being in trouble. His mind was definitely focused on something other than his work. Only Ron was suitably sullen about their situation, which led Hermione to be highly suspicious. What were the other three plotting, and perhaps more importantly, why had they left Ron out of it?

She was just finishing the first half of her first row of cabbages when Hermione thought she saw Harry pull something out of his pocket, winking at Neville, who did the same. Hermione craned her neck for a better look, but Hagrid turned her direction, so she turned back to her work. They were too far away, anyway, to give her any real view of what they were up to, and she had a horrible feeling that she would find out soon enough.

About four minutes later, after she'd nearly forgotten they'd done anything at all, Harry stretched widely and asked Neville perhaps louder than necessary how Posy was doing. Neville, again speaking louder than necessary, said that it was difficult because she was so badly behaved.

Hermione was puzzling over this, because Neville's cat was actually a very serene, docile creature, when she noticed yellow sparks starting at the far row of cabbages, where Draco was at, and spreading from row to row where the dung had been placed. She yelped for a moment, before she realized the dung was glowing, and in the glow where the sparks had spread, she could see multi-colored salamanders nuzzling the cabbages, burrowing into the dung.

It was…majestic.

Hagrid became very excited, ushering them over to Ron's area, which had a particularly large and colorful collection of salamanders. He told them about the different colors and how hot they preferred their coals. Hermione knelt down for a better look as Hagrid said there must have been a residual spark in the dragon dung that spread when Draco disturbed it, and Hermione glanced up at Harry.

That grin was far too self-satisfied. Instead of finishing with the cabbages, they got a very enjoyable light show and impromptu lecture on salamanders, and Hermione wondered where Harry and Neville had gotten the salamanders for the show. She supposed there were secrets they would always keep from her, and she didn't really mind.

Plausible deniability might save her from further detentions, in future.

/-/

While putting clean clothes in Catherine's room, Cara found a haphazardly tossed aside bit of parchment, and she picked it up, turning it over.

During the war, Catherine had become well-practiced in determining what was meant between the lines, and while her children though they were very clever about their codes and ciphers, they had no idea how sophisticated their parents' understanding of such things really was. This did explain why Caroline very suddenly decided to ask about sexual proliferation that morning, because from what Cara could gather from the paper, it had something to do with Harry and Neville, and had something to do with was of making manure more interesting – a specialty of Caroline's from her time gardening at Selwyn Manor with her father.

Cara pursed her lips, pulled out her wand, and carefully made a copy of the piece of paper, which she folded and put in her pocket. She checked the clock. Sirius would be back from dinner, probably grading things in his quarters or office.

Using the Floo in the kitchen, Cara popped her head into his office, smiling when she heard the sound of a quill scratching on parchment.

"Sirius?" she said, craning her neck trying to get a look at him.

The scratching sound stopped and she saw him kneeling beside her a moment later, smiling.

"Hello, Cat," he said, leaning as close as he could. "How are you? What's up? The children all okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine," she said with a wry smile. "Thought I'd give you something I found in Kitty's room." She passed the copied paper through the fireplace. "Mean anything to you?"

A small shadow passed over his eyes and he nodded, smirking.

"Oh, it certainly does," he said. "Thank you, love. Harry and I will be having a little chat. The girls don't know you found it?" She shook her head. "Great. Don't mention it. Let them sweat it out. I love that our children are innocent enough to think we have super powers. Anything else, love?"

"No," she said, smiling. "Love you."

"Love you too."

/-/

Harry wasn't sure why he was summoned to Uncle Sirius's office first thing after detention, but the note was a free pass to be out of bed should he not make it back to the Tower by curfew. He couldn't argue with that.

Uncle Sirius was marking essays when Harry knocked and was bid enter, and he looked up with a warm smile when Harry stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Uncle Sirius said, gesturing for Harry to sit in a nearby chair, which he did. "So, how was your first detention, Harry?"

The back of Harry's neck prickled with warmth and he forced a shrug.

"It was alright."

Uncle Sirius quirked an eyebrow. He seemed amused, which couldn't be a good sign. Uncle Sirius always looked amused before Catherine beat Harry at something, or before Caroline bested Aeson Lestrange.

"Really? Uneventful?"

"I guess."

Harry had to be careful not to give too much away, and not to outright lie. Uncle Sirius could smell a lie a mile away.

Something Harry had never seen before, Uncle Sirius folded his hands and leaned forward, saying, "Igniting dung to make salamanders glow, Harry? That's a classic, but not one you would have learned from your dad. Muggle neighborhood and all that." Harry felt his throat tighten. "No, that's something I haven't even taught Kitty. It's something Caro and I do, every summer, at Selwyn Manor when we plant the annuals. Not the best for cabbages, but it can be done."

Harry swallowed, saying nothing. Stupid to think that involving Caroline was a good idea. But then, they had been short on time.

"Did you use yellow sparks or blue?"

"Yellow," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Uncle Sirius grinned and said, "Alright, here's the lecture your mother would give you, since I'm not going to tell her. You were expressly told, Harry, not to use the mirrors to contact Kitty after her curfew, were you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're not going to do it again, are you?"

"No, sir."

Harry was quite sure in that moment that he would never do it again, that he would plan ahead when he was going to break the rules, get some ideas before her curfew was over so there wasn't a time crunch again.

"And you're going to endeavor not to get caught next time?"

Harry frowned in confusion, and Uncle Sirius said, with a bark of laughter, "That's what your father would say. Well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Have a good night, Harry. Oh, and next time, try the blue. They're harder to produce, but the results are stunning."

Even though he'd been somewhat chastised, Harry couldn't help grinning on the way back to his dormitory. He'd beaten detention. With a little help, sure, but he'd done it. And Uncle Sirius wasn't even going to tell his parents. What was there not to be cheerful about?

 **A/N: So, they've had their first detention. Caroline has gotten a bit more screen time. We've seen Sirius's idea of discipline.**

 **Review Prompt: Thoughts on this take of Hermione, anyone?**

 **-C**


	14. Falmouth v Holyhead

Harry woke up early on the Saturday morning marking the beginning of Easter Holiday. Students had packed the night before to go home for the holiday, if they so chose, and they would take the train to London. Hermione chose to stay for the holiday, as did Draco, but Neville, Ron, and Harry were going to be spending the holiday with the Potters and the Blacks at Selwyn Manor, as arranged by Uncle Sirius.

After the Quidditch match.

"Wake up," he hissed, shaking Neville. "Wake up!"

Ron was already dragging himself to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, and Neville rolled over, groaning.

"We've got the Quidditch match, Neville! Wake up!"

The mention of the match caused Neville to sit up quickly, although still drowsily, and he nodded.

"'M up, I promise," he said. "We packed everything last night?"

"Yeah, c'mon!"

The boys rushed through getting ready. Never mind that the train would leave at the same time no matter how quickly they got ready to go. With the exuberance particular to boys their age, they were stubbornly certain they could make the game come faster on sheer force of preparation and will.

/-/

Dorcas pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "No, Fabian, you are not taking our children to a Quidditch match."

"But James—"

"James is going with Lily," Dorcas said sternly. "You know full well I have to work, so you'd end up taking your brother. The youngest child they're bringing is Kitty, and she's several years older than our twins."

"But they're bringing trouble-makers," Fabian whined. "Our children are responsible!"

Dorcas pressed harder on the bridge of her nose, trying to think of a way to say what she needed to say without insulting her husband. She loved him, but sometimes she wondered why they bothered having four children when he insisted on not growing up.

"Yes, dear, they are," she said in a forced-calm voice. "And that is why I cannot expect them to take a lovely day out as a guise for baby-sitting their father and uncle in a public place."

She smiled when Fabian made his who-me? face and spluttered with feigned innocence. As much as he drove her crazy, she did love him, and she loved this about him.

"Dove, I swear to be on my best behavior."

"That's not much of a promise to hang my hat on, love," she said, patting his cheek condescendingly and picking up her work bag. "I've got to run. Make sure Cora shows you her maths."

"What if I'm really good this year?" he called after her as she pulled on her jacket and looked for the keys to her office. "Can I take them next year if I prove I can be good?"

Dorcas tried not to snicker, but the best she could do was hold it in until she stepped outside the house, letting it out when she was in the open air.

Naturally, though, Fabian didn't stop there. He stuck his head out of the kitchen window and called out, "Dove? Is that a yes?"

"Bye, Fabian," she said, not even turning around, waving him off over her shoulder, blushing at what their neighbors would think.

"I love you!" he called out, far too loud.

She sighed. She would have let him sweat it, but after fighting a war she knew nothing was guaranteed.

"I love you, too, you dolt!" she called, still not looking back at him, but knowing he was smiling. In spite of herself, she was grinning as she reached the end of the lane.

/-/

Harry, Ron, and Neville sat together on the train, but they were pleasantly surprised that Uncle Sirius joined them, passing chocolate bars around and stretching out by the door, letting Harry and Neville take the window. Harry and Neville were perfectly comfortable with this, but Ron did seem like he was a bit anxious, sitting with his teacher, not feeling free to joke and talk like he normally would do.

"I know you'll be in the Falmouth end," Uncle Sirius said to Harry a couple of hours into the ride. "And my daughter is going to be kitted out for the Harpies. I'm counting on you, Harry, to keep an eye on my little girl."

"Yes, sir," Harry said earnestly.

He had hoped that she wouldn't be that silly, but then he supposed he should have guessed. Catherine could be sillier than just about anyone.

"You'll like Selwyn Manor, Ron," Neville said eagerly, breaking his last bit of chocolate in two. "Lots of corners to explore. And the grounds are huge!"

Ron's eyebrows quirked and he nodded, curious about the manor. Harry didn't think it was all that great, but he did enjoy it, so he nodded his agreement and let Neville and Uncle Sirius talk about the manor, the gentle lilt of their words and the steady chug of the engine lulling him into a trance-like calm.

/-/

Narcissa had hoped, especially after Draco had picked up his first detention, that her son would want to come home for the Easter holidays, but she was disappointed to hear that he agreed with his father that he should stay at school and study for his exams. Apparently, he was nervous that he would not be high enough to be top of the year, and she knew how important such a distinction was to Lucius.

She wondered how she would stave off her boredom. She supposed that perhaps she could pay her sister a visit, or drop in at Selwyn Manor to see her cousin's family. Someone would be pleased to see her and keep her company for a time, even if she had to resort to tea at Lestrange Manor, Merlin forbid.

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At King's Cross Station, students were allowed back into the main, Muggle part of the station in twos and threes, and because they had a professor with them, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Uncle Sirius had clearance to all step out together. Harry waved at his parents, who waved back from nearby, and he led the way over.

Catherine stood beside Harry's mother, her long, smooth, dark brown hair flowing over her shoulders, and he tried to ignore her awful Holyhead Harpies outfit.

"Wow," Ron said, blinking.

"What?" Harry asked, squeezing past other people to get to his family.

"Is that Professor Black's daughter?" he asked. "She's…pretty."

Harry looked at Catherine again, her bored expression which melted into excitement when she caught sight of her father approaching.

"Sure, I guess," Harry said dismissively. "C'mon."

Catherine threw herself at Uncle Sirius, who pulled her happily into his arms and twirled her around.

"How's my Kitty-Cat?" he asked, kissing the top of her head when he set her down again. "Excited for the match?"

"Yes, Daddy," she said happily, smiling. She turned to Harry, greeted him, and then waited expectantly for introductions.

"Right, Neville, you've met Kitty before," Harry said, raising an eyebrow as they greeted each other. "Catherine, Ron Weasley. Ron, this is Catherine Black."

"Hey," Ron said, obviously uncomfortable with the formality of it all.

"And these are my parents."

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Ron," Harry's dad said. "Molly's son?"

"Yeah," Ron said, surprised at the mention of his mother.

"We don't know her well, but we know your uncles," Uncle Sirius said.

Harry's mother checked her watch and reminded them that they needed to get going or they wouldn't get to Falmouth in time for the start of the game. Uncle Sirius gathered up their trunks on a cart, walked them out to the car, and called a house-elf to take the trunks while Harry's parents were making sure no Muggles were watching. He watched them pile into the car and waved happily. Harry waved, too, with Catherine bumping him with her elbow as she also waved, until he vanished on the spot.

/-/

Pansy sat down beside Draco in the common room, glancing down at the book in his hands with feigned interest. She really couldn't care less what he was reading, but she knew it was important to show interest in what he was interested in, even if he was only reading it to get a better grade.

"Hi, Draco," she said, smiling, tucking a bit of dark hair behind her ear. "I thought you would be going home for the holiday."

He didn't look up at her as he said, "I stayed so I could study."

"Oh, that's nice," she lied. "I stayed because my parents are leaving for France tomorrow and didn't think they'd have time to pick me up with meetings and such. Have you spent much time in France? Your surname's French, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said shortly.

This was harder than she thought, trying to get his attention. The way her mother talked about courting, it seemed so much easier. Perhaps young men didn't see it as their duty anymore to seek out future spouses at school. Or perhaps Draco's father had a suitor in mind for him. She hadn't thought of that, and the very idea of it made her slightly sick with anxiety.

"Oh. Is that yes on your surname, or yes on having spent much time there?"

"Both."

Pansy decided it wasn't going to do her any good to keep pressing at the moment, so she said she had something to do, and he didn't even look up at her as she left, didn't bother with words of parting. She had all break, she told herself. She could do this.

/-/

The stadium was buzzing with activity. The Potters, Catherine, Neville, and Ron took their seats, which were very well-situated on the Falmouth Falcons end of the stadium, and Harry's dad thought it would be a good idea to put Catherine between himself and Harry, just to be safe. Harry managed to switch with Ron, though, who was taller, on account that he was more likely to frighten someone off with height than Harry was.

Harry was beginning to regret the choice, however, because it seemed that Ron fancied Catherine a bit.

"So," he said to her while Harry pored over the program, "you're, erm, coming to Hogwarts next year?"

"Yep!" Catherine said, bouncing slightly in her seat.

"Think you'll be in Gryffindor?"

"I dunno," she said, shrugging. "My dad was in Gryffindor, but lots of my family has been in Slytherin."

Harry looked up at Ron, who seemed disappointed by this.

"What about your mum? Ravenclaw?"

Catherine frowned slightly, and Harry nudged Ron in the ribs lightly, shaking his head. He leaned in and whispered, "Kitty's mum didn't go to Hogwarts. I'll tell you later."

Ron still looked confused, but he rubbed his hands on his jeans before saying, "So you like Quidditch? Harpies, I guess?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "Are you a Falcons fan?"

"No, just here because Harry invited me," Ron said, his ears turning red. "I'm a Chudley Cannons fan."

Catherine winced and apologized and Harry smirked, turning back to the program, listening with amusement as Ron tried to chat Catherine up. He didn't notice that she wasn't interested in the conversation, but then he wouldn't. He didn't know her yet. That would come, Harry supposed, with time.

/-/

The game was a bit of a disappointment. Gwenog Jones pretty much annihilated all competition, and the Harpies caught the Snitch on a seventy-point to nil lead, with absolutely no opposition from the Falcons. Neville suspected that the Harpies Seeker was flirting with the Falcons Seeker in the air and that was why he was so dazed and distracted when she suddenly dove and caught the Snitch.

Harry agreed. Ron hadn't seemed to notice. He had been reveling in the atmosphere, and seemed a bit smitten with Catherine as well. Neville suspected it wouldn't last long, as Ron hadn't seemed to realize yet that she hadn't looked at him twice. He didn't know her bored look, not yet.

They all got back in the car and drove to Selwyn Manor. Neville fell asleep in the car, but Harry nudged him awake when they go to the manor. Mr. Potter parked the car just outside the gate, and they all clambered out. Catherine unlocked the gate to let everyone in, leading the way into the house, which Ron looked at like he'd never seen anything so impressive before.

"This is where you live?" he asked Catherine, his ears going red.

"Just on holidays," she said with a bored shrug. "We've got a house in London we live at during the year."

"You have two houses?"

Ron's eyes were the size of saucers as they stepped into the entryway, twisting and turning, trying to see every corner at once. First he looked at the grand staircase, then the portraits on the wall, then the massive chandelier, then the intricate seventeenth century ceiling, then the marble floor, then the archway into the ballroom, and then they were disrupted by Catherine's squeal of delight as her father walked in to greet them.

"You're done early," he said, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek. "Not a very good game, then?"

"On the contrary," Catherine said stuffily, with a tone she'd borrowed from Narcissa Malfoy, "the Harpies wiped the floor with the Falcons, two hundred twenty to nil. It was a glorious game."

Professor Black let out a bark of laughter and said, "Someday, Kitty-Cat, you'll learn that winning isn't everything, even in sport. Come on in, everyone. I'll show you to your rooms after dinner. We were just about to sit down. I'll have plates brought for you. We've got plenty."

They walked through to the dining room, and Ron gasped at the size of it. Neville did suppose that the long table with the grand fireplace at the far end could be a bit intimidating, and the Weasleys did have a reputation for not being particularly well-off. Perhaps this was all overwhelming for him.

"Ron," Professor Black said brightly, "this is my wife, Cara, and my two younger children, Jason and Caroline. Everybody, this is Ron Weasley, Harry's school friend. I hope you like lamb, Ron."

"Yes, sir," Ron said nervously, sitting down at the seat Professor Black gestured to, between Neville and Jason. He looked at the salad on his plate, and the array of forks and spoons and knives, and he went slightly pale.

Neville leaned in slightly while the others were settling in to their seats and whispered, "They don't care if you get it wrong. But start out and work in."

Ron nodded, picking up the fork on the outside and watching Caroline take a few mouthfuls of her salad to gage the size of appropriate mouthfuls before starting in on his food. He didn't have any of the natural ease or grace the others at the table had, but Ron began to relax by the time dessert came, and Neville had to admit that he'd really put an effort into impressing everyone.

/-/

Before bed, Catherine made a point of going by her father's study, knowing he would be there finishing the last of his marking for the term that just ended. He didn't look up as she let the door creak open, but he motioned for her to enter. She did, crossing to her father and smiling, so happy to see him. She could hardly wait for school when she could see him every day.

"Daddy, I wanted to see you before I went to bed."

"Just one second, Kitty-Cat."

She watched him put a few short comments at the end of an essay before setting down the essay and quill and smiling up at her. He gestured for her to come closer, and she did, wrapping her arms about his neck and letting him pull her into his lap.

"Gosh, you've grown," he sighed. "Seems like yesterday I could fit you in one hand, and now look at you."

"That's been ages," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly.

He shook his head.

"Not to me." He tapped her nose and said, "You know, you are far too beautiful for your own good. I suspect young Mr. Weasley is smitten with you."

She wrinkled her nose even more and said, "Daddy, that's disgusting."

"Thank Merlin for that," he teased, tickling her gently for a moment. "Good to see you haven't grown completely while I've been away. You've been behaving for Mum?"

"Yes," she said, shrugging.

As much as she ever did, which she knew was all he really expected of her. Caroline was the one who often gave their mother grief. It served Catherine's purposes nicely to be the easy daughter, although she couldn't outdo Jason for being the easiest child.

"I expect you to be good to Harry's friends, alright?"

"When am I ever not?" she said as innocently as she could manage, and her dad let out a bold bark of laughter that warmed her every time she heard it, and she smiled, hugging his neck again. "I've missed you, Daddy."

"I've missed you, too, Kitty-Cat. But I'll still be here tomorrow, and you're stretching your curfew, my dear."

She pouted, but she got him to walk her to her room, tuck her in, and kiss her cheek and nose before she was required to stay in bed.

Catherine stared up at the ceiling, smiling to herself, thinking how lovely it would be to see her father every day, take his class, and be the best student he'd ever had. She was determined to learn everything he taught perfectly, and to top her year. If she worked hard enough, she might even make Head Girl someday. He'd be very proud of her then, she knew it.

She closed her eyes and dreamed of Hogwarts, of stone walled corridors and classrooms full of students in black robes, and her father smiling at her from the front of the room, but the chalkboard, awarding her ten points for knowing all the answers.

 **A/N: Here's another chapter of my impatience. Cheers. I've got a three-day weekend, so I feel a bit more relaxed than I did during the week. SO much work, being a teacher.**

 **Review Prompt: How long d'you suppose Ron will be smitten with Catherine?**

 **ALSO, two people have already earned entries in the autumn solstice drawing! Want to win fabulous, glorious prizes from myself or MissRoseAlanaHorton? Review, review, review! (PM or see my profile for details)**

 **-C**


	15. Exams

Everyone grew increasingly exhausted as exams drew near. When given his exam schedule, Draco was especially pleased that he did not have most of his exams until the second week of exams, except for Potions, but there was so much to study that he did not have much to be pleased about. The Potions exam alone would be a great deal of work.

Although it was something of a blow to his pride, Draco did sit down in the library with Harry's friends to study for the Potions exam. This was not entirely because Granger was so good with Potions. It had just as much to do with the fact that the Gryffindors did most of the exams in the first week that he would be doing in the second.

"Charms was tough," Harry said softly as Draco sat down, well aware of why Draco had agreed to join their study group. "Waiting was terrible. A lot of people came out looking wilted."

"Wilted?" Draco repeated, trying not to be amused. He couldn't imagine Flitwick wilting anyone.

"Harry," Granger said, horrified. "We can't talk about the exams!"

"Fred says the teachers don't leave it exactly the same," Weasley said, shrugging. "So I guess it doesn't make that much if a difference if we talk about it, right?"

Granger seemed very uneasy about this, but she relented.

Draco soaked in as much about Professor Lupin's exam as well as he could while still giving his input for the Potions revision. After all, his agreement to be there was that he was going to be a productive member of their revision group. Still, Neville, Harry, and Weasley would be lucky to pass, and Draco was determined to beat Granger out for top of the year.

Why give her any little things he knew that she might not?

/-/

Damon sat with his twin on the cool grass in front of their cousin's house, ignoring the gnomes who had the run of the garden.

"Rhea's going to have all kinds of fun next year without us," Ourania said, frowning.

Damon shrugged. He knew Rhea had very little inclination for "all kinds of fun," not as Ourania saw it. Damon and his elder sisters had quieter temperaments, although he appreciated his twin's wildness. When they went to parties at Selwyn Manor with their parents, he liked to watch Caroline Black and Aeson Lestrange fight. He especially liked it when Caroline got the better of her cousin, because he liked the see Aeson's face twitch with rage nearly as much as he liked to see Caroline's eyes light up in triumph.

She didn't always win, but he preferred it when she won.

"Our turn soon enough," he said, pulling a little at the grass until a few blades came loose in his hands. Auntie Molly would scold him if she saw, but he supposed he didn't have to show her.

"Never soon enough," Ourania sighed dramatically. "Ginny promised to send me souvenirs."

"It's school, not a holiday. What souvenirs do you expect her to get for you? Quills? Empty ink wells?"

Ourania shrugged.

"Detention notices, maybe?"

Damon smiled, shaking his head and laying back. He lifted the hand with the grass over his head, then promptly turned and let the blades loose over his sister's face. She spluttered, squeaking as she brushed it off her face, and then she turned and stuck her tongue out at him.

"That was weak," she said with a pout.

He knew it was, but he didn't mind. It always made her smile when he did particularly bad tricks on her, and that was really the only reason for doing them.

/-/

Tuesday afternoon of the second week was Draco's second exam. Slytherins had Herbology with the Ravenclaws, which led to a relatively uneventful class, and Draco had the distinction of being the best in their section. This gave him a great deal of confidence, going in for the test.

"I don't know why we should care about this class," Blaise said lazily. "It's not as if it's useful."

"It is," Draco said, tapping his foot anxiously as they waited for the others to finish so he might be called. "Think of how many of these plants we use in Potions. Knowing about them allows us to be better in brewing."

"And ones that can kill us," Theodore Nott said, flipping through his notes. "I would say that's pretty important."

Blaise gave a bored sniff, glancing over at Padma Patil with mild interest. Draco decided his own time was better spent studying like Theo was studying. Especially when Morag MacDougal was called in, which meant Draco would be called quite soon. He felt confident, but it was always better not to be distracted.

He flipped through his notes quickly, not lingering on anything in particular, and he almost jolted in surprise when Professor Sprout called out his name.

/-/

Lily was frowning at him, but James couldn't stop smiling. He was waving the letter like it was a victory flag.

"It's practically proof of his brilliance!" he cried. "Of course, with you and me as parents, how could he not come out utterly brilliant?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed out that Remus's letter only suggested that Harry did well on his exam, and that this was hardly any kind of proof of brilliance, but James did not allow her negativity to bring him down. The simple fact that Lily married him was proof to James of the power of positive thinking.

/-/

The aftermath of finishing her exams was a difficult thing for Hermione. In primary school, when she finished her exam periods, she would unload her thoughts on her performance on her parents, who were always eager to hear about everything she'd done, and things she felt she might have done better. Here at Hogwarts, she could write her parents a letter, but it wouldn't be the same.

She started to talk about the exams with Harry and Ron and Neville, but Ron and Harry were especially adamant that once each exam was over, it was not to be spoken of again. Neville had been very polite about listening, but she realized that it was making him a bit nauseous to hear her talk about the exams, so Hermione had let off to be polite.

She really wasn't sure how she fit in with them, or if she did at all, most days. She had a feeling they liked to pick her brains for assignments and the trouble they liked to make, and that if Draco Malfoy had been in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin, they wouldn't need her at all. Still, Hermione had never had anyone she could call a friend in school before, so she didn't especially mind as long as they were kind to her. Harry and Neville almost always were, and when Ron was cruel, it wasn't on purpose. For the moment, she would take it.

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There were many things to consider, getting ready for the summer. Cara had to be certain that Selwyn Manor would be ready to greet them when Sirius came back from Hogwarts, as he had wanted to spend Catherine's last summer before school away from London. She'd yet to tell the children, and they were so busy with their own amusements that they hadn't noticed how busy their mother was.

Cara went to bed each night thinking of how empty it felt, as she hadn't thought most of the year. It was always like this when June hit, of course. She always thought about how close she was to seeing Sirius, and she seemed to miss him more for the anticipation. He would come with gifts for the children, and perhaps even gifts for her, and she smiled to herself as she peeled off her robes after a very long day.

She closed her eyes and saw, as she did with alarming regularity, the grotesque picture of the Dark Lord bleeding to death in front of her, of his blood on her hands. Cara quickly opened her eyes again, taking a deep breath and stepping into her nightgown, shivering violently.

"The nightmares never go away, dear," the voice of Phineas Nigellus said behind her. "They only fade a little."

She only wished that for once he would be wrong.

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Remus hated the fourth-year curriculum. Of course, he hadn't minded it as a student, but after fighting in a war, he hated teaching students about curses and defense from those curses. The jinxes and some hexes, they learned those on their own. They were the only thing students would actively research – things they could use against people they didn't like to have a bit of fun. Remus tried to be disapproving, but as long as no one was permanently hurt, he was usually a bit too kind about such things in the halls. Not as bad as Sirius, but Remus had his moments.

On the other hand, Remus stood before the Hufflepuffs and he reminded himself that they had to know how to defend themselves. Voldemort might have been a particular kind of evil, but he was not unique in history. Peace was not eternal, and someone would come around again, on some scale, and they would need to be ready.

It was the only way he could get himself through testing them on counter-curses. Otherwise, Remus just felt like a terrible person.

"Right," he said, smiling weakly at the students standing anxiously in the hall. "I'll call you in one by one. It shouldn't take you very long. You should all have plenty of time before lunch. Mr. Adams, you first, please."

The nervous boy followed him into the classroom, and Remus told himself that the curses he was about to throw at this boy were for the boy's own good. Even if he didn't believe it, he had to tell himself that.

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Fabian quirked his eyebrow at his wife, who had a massive file in front of her.

"That's not creature's rights," he said, nodding to the color coding on the corner of the file.

"No," she said, scratching her chin. "But it is related. Let's just say this person's supposed exploits are putting my work in jeopardy. His readers believe his bollocks, and they're starting to think that werewolves and vampires and hags and the like are all cut from the same cloth. Remus put me onto it."

He sat down and she snapped the file shut, but he didn't ask. Whatever she was up to, she wasn't ready to share it yet, and she knew he would when she thought it was time.

"What are you going to do, then? Want me to look into anything?"

"No," she said, scratching her chin again. "I need to think out my strategy. It's possible I will ask you to pull some files. And it might not be fully above-board at first. But I promise, if I do ask you, then I will be opening some kind of proceedings."

"I know, dove," he said, kissing her cheek. "Whatever you need. I can't promise he's done anything illegal, but if he has, we'll find it for you."

She nodded and scooped up the file, walking to the corner of her office, locking it in her desk where he didn't have a key, and Fabian felt an itch to break in and look at it. Technically speaking, he had the skills. He hadn't used them in a while, but he was more than capable of breaking into his wife's desk.

It was, he thought, probably worth more than his life to do it, though. Fabian tried to push it from his mind.

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Dean was enjoying the time after his exams were over, while others were still finishing theirs, especially the Slytherins. That was the one positive thing about having their exams so early: they could laugh when they were done and everyone else was still working.

He wrinkled his nose as Seamus flicked grass into his face.

"What d'you reckon, then?" Seamus asked, nodding toward the lake, where a few fourth year girls were squealing as the giant squid's tentacles teased the water of the shallows.

"What?"

"A swim?"

Dean snorted his amusement and shook his head. The others boys from their dormitory were by a large tree further up the lake, probably talking Quidditch and boring Hermione Granger out of her mind. Dean glanced over and saw that she had a book out. No small wonder, that.

"I reckon we passed," he said thoughtfully. "It'd be awful not to, wouldn't it? I imagine it does happen sometimes."

"If those idiots Crabbe and Goyle pass, we'll pass," Seamus said confidently. "It was pretty rough, though, all of it. Except Professor Black's exam."

Dean shrugged. He'd certainly felt like Professor Black's essay exam was difficult, but he did know it could have been quite a lot worse. History was nasty business, especially as they'd only covered a sliver of the full history of the goblin wars and rebellions. Still, getting to tell it in a narrative was good fun.

"Maybe next year we won't have to learn any more goblin names," Dean said, smiling.

"I made half of mine up," Seamus said with a frown. "D'you think he'll mind? I got the dates right."

Dean just laughed.

/-/

As usual during tea with Lucius, Rabastan was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He really didn't care about the petty concerns of Lucius's daily life, not when he had his own concerns to think about. For example, the knowledge that his daughter had taken up drinking and was trying to take Catherine Black down the spiral with her. He knew that Catherine and Adrasteia had found some of Sirius's cigarettes and firewhiskey, and Rabastan had been protecting their snooping from Sirius, but he was going to have to have a word with Sirius now.

Someone to blame for Catherine's eventual liver problems other than Adrasteia, that was the key.

"And that stupid Potter boy," Lucius growled, pouring himself some more firewhiskey.

It took all of Rabastan's power not to roll his eyes about that. He'd had very little to do with James Potter and his son, but he knew the Blacks and the Potters were inseparable, so he was pointedly polite about them for Cara's sake. Lucius didn't bother with that, didn't hide his distaste for the Potters.

"What did he do this time?" Rabastan asked, bored.

"You heard, I imagine, that he's a Seeker for his house team already?"

Indeed, Rabastan had heard all about it from Caroline. She'd been insanely jealous that James Potter bought his son a Nimbus 2000.

"Well, he won't think he's so special when Draco beats him at his own game next year."

Rabastan was afraid to ask what the game was, and so he decided not to. Whatever it was, he had a feeling he would be seeing the results of Lucius's mad jealousy soon enough.

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The first years all gathered around, snagging up their results hungrily and anxiously from Professor McGonagall, who saved them for last. Harry had been told that hardly anyone ever failed the first year altogether, so he wasn't too nervous, but ironically Hermione looked like she was going to be sick as she held her sealed results in her hands.

"What if we don't do very well in something?" Hermione said nervously. "Not like failed, but just…not very well?"

"We go on to the next year and we study all the harder," Ron said, rolling his eyes as he opened his results. "Ah, well, passed it all. What about you lot?"

Neville passed his, even Potions by some small miracle, and Harry was pleased to see that he'd also done well enough in all his courses. In fact, he'd gotten quite a dazzling score in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Hermione decided that she didn't have the heart to read her own results, so she passed them to Neville, who gave her a bracing smile before opening them for her.

"Blimey," he said, his eyebrows twitching upward. "Hermione, you've topped everything."

"What?" she squeaked.

"Well, there's a little symbol they put after the score that tops the year, right?" Neville said, showing her. "See, you've got it after every class. You're top of our year, flat out."

"Why you even waste energy worrying about such things," Ron grumbled, aggressively buttering his toast. "Feast tonight, eh? Professor Black said it's usually a grand occasion. D'we know who's won the House Cup?"

"It was pretty close, if I recall," Harry said, scratching his chin. "Still plenty of opportunities to lose or gain points before the feast, though, so I'm not going to tot it up just yet. Hermione, reckon you could tutor me in Potions? I think Professor Snape is a bit unreasonable in his expectations of me, but I'd still like to meet them, if I can."

"Oh, well, of course," she said, surprised that he'd even asked. "If you're willing to put in the effort, of course I'll tutor you."

Neville blushed slightly and said, "I'd ask, but I wouldn't want to waste your time. I'm more than hopeless at Potions."

Hermione insisted that Neville couldn't possibly be hopeless, because after all, he'd passed the exams, and that was no easy feat, she said.

Easy enough for her to say, Harry though wryly, when she had over a hundred percent on every exam, including Potions. Harry thought that his mum would like Hermione, should they ever meet. Ambitious, intelligent, conscientious Muggle-born. That was basically how Uncle Sirius described Harry's mother, with fondness.

"Are you going to write to Catherine," Neville asked, "or are you going to wait until you see her at the station tomorrow?"

"I reckon I'll let her know later," Harry said, grinning as he thought of using the mirrors to tell her his exam results. "She'll love that I was beat in everything by a girl. It'll make her day."

 **A/N: So, Harry's first year is coming to a close. We'll see a dash of summer, and then right back to school, this time with some new faces!**

 **So, Dorcas is plotting, Lucius is plotting, and Ourania is – as usual – pouting.**

 **Review Prompt: What's your favorite non-Black, non-Potter storyline at present, and why?**

 **Bonus Review Prompt: Guesses on what Dorcas is up to?**

 **-C**


	16. Return to King's Cross

Harry smirked as Catherine pouted at him through the mirrors, sitting on the floor of the attached bath to his dormitory.

"Still," she said in an attempt to feel better about her disappointment that he'd done so well and she hadn't taken a single class yet, "you didn't top the class, Harry. Who did?"

"Hermione Granger," Harry said, scratching his cheek. "She's sort of our friend. Well, she's Neville's friend and so she's with us a lot. Gryffindor. She's brilliant, Kitty. But she can be a bit…much."

"Much?"

"She's pretty by-the-book."

Catherine wrinkled her nose disapprovingly, and then she made a small noise of disappointment.

"Listen," she said softly, "I can hear Caro calling for me. She wants my help picking out what we're wearing to the station. As if I want to solve her problems when I don't know what I'm going to wear. I know about Auntie Lily's rule, but will you call again tonight, after the feast? I want to know about the cup and stuff. I promise to be awake."

Harry hesitated. He'd as good as promised her father that he wouldn't call after her curfew again, but she'd pleaded, and it was a special circumstance. It was sort of a holiday, in a lot of ways. The other boys would be out cold from all the food, surely, anyway.

"Alright," he said, wishing he had pushed back more. "Alright, I'll do it. But do me a favor, Kitty, don't get us caught this time."

She gave him a self-assured smirk, blew him a condescending kiss, and then she was gone and Harry was looking at his own reflection. He groaned, knowing that if they got caught he would be in so much trouble, but if he didn't even try she'd call him a coward and never let him forget it.

No, he was a Gryffindor. He had to brave the potential wrath of Uncle Sirius.

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"Harry spends forever in the bathroom sometimes," Seamus said, tossing socks haphazardly into his trunk. "D'you think he's going to be alright for the feast?"

"Nah, he's fine," Neville said, a bit too quickly, Dean thought. "Just trying to sort out that hair. You know how it is."

Dean laughed, trying to get his things packed up. It was amazing how much stuff they managed to accumulate over the course of a school year. He figured he could get rid of some stuff, he just wasn't sure what.

"What are you guys doing for the summer?" he asked.

"I'm spending some of it at Selwyn Manor with the Blacks and the Potters," Neville said, and he nodded over to where Ron was trying desperately to get his trunk to close properly over all of his things. "Ron's family's coming by for a little bit, too. What about you guys?"

"Just going to have some time with my ma'," Seamus said, grinning. "We're going to watch a bunch of Quidditch. Reckon you guys will get around to going to a match?"

"We might do," Harry said, finally coming out of the bathroom, tucking something in his pocket as he came out. "Hey, Neville, can you remember what that flower is Kitty likes?"

"Why?" Neville asked with a nervous and slightly suspicious tone that made Dean perk up with interest. He'd never met this Kitty they sometimes talked about, but he found her intriguing from the tidbits he'd picked up from hearing Harry and Neville talk about her. "What are you going to do?"

Harry just winked and said, "Let me show off, Neville."

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Harry sat down at the feast with some excitement. Sure, Slytherin had won the Quidditch cup when Harry was knocked unconscious in the final match and couldn't get them the win. Still, the two houses and been neck-and-neck when they got ready for the feast for the House Cup, so there was still a chance of something.

"D'you think we got enough?" Neville asked nervously.

Hermione was just about to open her mouth, probably to tell them for certain what her calculations had come up with, when the banners descended from the ceiling, in Gryffindor scarlet and gold.

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To Ron, the best part of the feast was always the food. It didn't hurt, of course, that Gryffindor had pulled out a win in the House Cup, getting to see the sour look on Draco Malfoy's face across the way. Whatever the weird relationship between Neville and Harry and Malfoy, Ron and the Slytherin were more or less at constant odds just by nature.

"So what's the deal about your birthday, Harry?"

That was when Ron was going to be at Selwyn Manor, with his whole family invited by Professor Black. Ron was both nervous and excited about another opportunity to spend time at the Manor, knowing it would be very different from what his family was used to, and what if his brothers teased him for thinking Catherine Black was pretty?

They were bound to.

"End of July," Harry said, heaping another helping of sticky toffee pudding onto his plate. "I imagine Kitty will have her letter by then."

"Who else is starting next year?" Neville asked, and Ron perked up.

"My cousin, Rhea," Ron said, and they nodded, knowing his cousins. "And my sister, Ginny."

"Adra," Harry said, which Ron had learned was the nickname of Adrasteia Lestrange, cousin of the Blacks. "That's probably everybody. All girls." He wrinkled his nose and Ron hummed in agreement.

It was likely they wouldn't spend much time with them. If it weren't for Harry seeming to be so close to Catherine, they wouldn't have any reason to.

"I think I have to study this summer," Harry said glumly. "Knowing Kitty, she's not going to relent until she knows more than I do, year behind me or no. Neville, can you help me learn the names of all the plants in the Black garden?"

"I can try," Neville said, scratching his chin thoughtfully and pushing away his plate. "If Caro lets me near them. She'd be the one to ask, but I doubt she'd help you."

Ron rolled his eyes, dishing up more pudding. As far as he was concerned, if those two spent all summer studying, he was going to have to find someone else to entertain him. Maybe he would get Catherine to play some Quidditch with him.

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Neville bounced eagerly in his seat as Professor Dumbledore stepped up to the podium, raising his hands to quiet the room. It always amazed Neville how one man could induce a room so full of people to silence so quickly.

"Well done, Gryffindor," Professor Dumbledore said, which induce a roar of cheers and claps from the Gryffindor table. He smiled, nodding, raising his hands again after he gave them a few moments to celebrate. "Yes, well done. And it was a hard-fought year, certainly, from the very beginning to the very end. And congratulations to Slytherin, once again, for their winning the Quidditch Cup."

Neville's neck tightened as he saw the Slytherins cheer. Neville couldn't wish them any positivity, knowing that if not for one unlucky blow of the Bludger, Gryffindor would have annihilated the Slytherin record.

"At the end of another year here at Hogwarts, we must take a moment to say our goodbyes and congratulations to those students who have come to the end of their education here," Professor Dumbledore continued. "We want to honor their commitment and accomplishment, and wish them well as they go into the world. So, once again, let us begin."

The students and teachers all listened patiently and politely as various seventh year students were awarded for excellence in various subjects and general academic accomplishment. The awards then turned to top and second of each of the younger years, which caused a much greater interest in the general student body. Neville gave Hermione a bracing smile as she stood to acknowledge her topping their year. She was blushing, seeming to quiver under the force of applause, and Neville turned with interest when Draco was announced as second in their year.

Draco was pink too, but for different reason, Neville suspected. What would Draco's father make of this slight, Neville wondered? There were still wizards who believed in blood purity, no matter what the world told them about it, and Lucius was one such relic. Neville did not envy Draco in the slightest.

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Ginny sat down with her father, who had just got home from work and was shrugging on a jumper as he sat down in his armchair.

"The office has been unbelievably hot lately," he said. "I thought Perkins was going to get heat stroke today. I wish Magical Maintenance would do something about it."

He rubbed his forehead, smiled, and said, "Your Mum and I have some news we've been saving until your last night of being the only child at dinner. Thought you'd appreciate the special night."

At this, Ginny sat a bit straighter. Whatever the news was, it was probably pleasant. Her dad smiling was usually a pleasant thing.

"One of your brothers' teachers," he explained, "is an old friend of your aunt and uncle, from before you were born. And his godson is a good friend of Ron's. The boy he went to the Quidditch match with? It was this teacher's house he stayed at over Easter Holiday." Ginny nodded. "Apparently, the two families always spend the summer together, and this August the Longbottoms and our family have been invited to spend a month there as well."

"All of us?" Ginny said, eyes wide. "It must be very big."

"It's a manor house," her mother said cheerfully, coming into the living room with a plate of biscuits. "There will be an awful lot of us. There's all of us, and then the Longbottoms and the Potters, which is another six, and then the Black family is five people already."

Ginny perked up at this. The Black family. She didn't know them personally, but Rhea did. They sometimes went to parties at the Black's manor, and Rhea said they had a girl Ginny and Rhea's age.

"I don't think I've seen Sirius Black in years," her father said thoughtfully, picking up a biscuit. "And I've never met his wife. Three children, you say?"

"I suspect that if he weren't at Hogwarts all the time, they'd have quite a few more."

Ginny hid her smirk at her mother's insinuation by quickly taking too large of a bite from her biscuit. When she managed to swallow the massive bite, she said, "What does Professor Black teach?"

"History of Magic," her mother answered, "Bill thought he was brilliant. Percy's the only one who hasn't had much to say about him, actually. He's even got the twins studying. I image his class is one of the more beloved ones."

Ginny didn't ask why, but she enjoyed her biscuits and tried to imagine what a whole month at a manor would be like, with lots of people she didn't know and rooms she'd never seen and grounds she'd never flown over…. August seemed like ages away all of a sudden.

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Draco took deep breaths and closed his eyes, ignoring the sounds of his dorm mates who were trying to do all their packing at the last minute just like he suspected they would. Several of them, unsurprisingly, would still be doing their final packing in the morning.

It wasn't that Draco begrudged Granger her prizes. After all, she'd put in more work, practically memorized every course book, and Draco suspected that she'd made a lot of sacrifices in other areas to be as good as she was. But he also knew that his father wouldn't see it that way, especially given her blood status.

Draco supposed that there was always his mother and her good reason, or his uncle's testimony that Granger was just unnaturally good at remembering everything. It wouldn't fully absolve Draco's failures, but it might assuage some of the ire about to come his way.

And what he wouldn't admit to himself was that his pride was a little bit hurt as well.

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After the second warning from her father, Rhea turned out the light and set the book under her pillow where she would easily find it in the morning. Whatever Ourania didn't understand about the joys of reading, Rhea found it a great comfort. In books, the reader could control the pace. Unlike life, where everything happened too quickly and out of her hands, Rhea felt in control when she read a book. She could take things a chapter a day, or reread a particularly good passage until she felt satisfied with it enough to move on. Unpleasant parts could be skimmed and delightful parts delved into deeply, savored. Sometimes when Rhea read a particularly good sentence or description, she would close her eyes and read it over again, holding the moment for as long as she could until she began to forget where the words fit together and what order the letters took. And then she could open her eyes, and if she chose, read the particularly good bit all over again.

But not tonight. Tonight, she would endeavor to hold the last pages as long as possible so that she could dream of them, and pick them up again at first light.

/-/

The train ride was a solemn one. Draco had been tempted to find a compartment to himself, but he knew he couldn't keep it long. Instead, he followed Blaise to a compartment separate from others, and told Crabbe and Goyle quite plainly that they weren't to be disturbed.

Blaise had done well, respectable on his exams. Nothing spectacular, of course, but as well as Harry Potter, from what Draco understood. No doubt Blaise's mother wouldn't care, so long as he moved on to the next year.

"Have you got a plan?" Blaise asked, blandly, as he set his book bag on the seat. "For your father, I mean."

Draco ignored the question and Blaise didn't ask it again. They spent the rest of the train ride in perfect silence, thinking separate thoughts as they watched the landscape whiz by.

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Caroline stood with her sister at the train station, just outside the hidden gateway to platform nine-and-three-quarters.

"You look tired," Caroline said, smiling sweetly at her elder sister. Catherine just gave her a vexed look and turned back to watching the Muggles as they passed. Caroline had very little interest in the Muggles. There wasn't much to be learned from Muggles that would help her win her battles.

Their mother was talking to Auntie Lily and Uncle James, smoothing Jason's hair absently as he stood at her side, where he always stood in public. Jason wasn't timid, exactly, but he did stay close to their mother, more for her sake than his, Caroline thought. Their mother was perfectly calm in public, but she was always more tense without someone beside her. Their father was preferred, but Jason was a close substitute.

"Here they come," some stranger said nearby, and Caroline turned back to the wall, where several school-aged children came out, scanning the assembled crowd for their families. The same every year, and their father was never among the first to come off the train.

Twenty minutes or so they waited, Catherine watching every person to leave the hidden platform, Caroline occasionally glancing over, but usually scanning the families for familiar faces. She saw the Longbottoms making their way over, and Uncle Lucius and Auntie Cissy standing stiffly in the back.

"Daddy!" Catherine squealed, rushing forward, pushing her way through the other people. Caroline saw her mother smile, leading the rest of them to their father, who had come with Harry, Neville, and the very red-headed boy named Ron. A bushy-haired girl was with them as well, looking slightly nervous.

Their father scooped Catherine up in his arms, twirling her around, kissing her face several times and hugging her before putting her down. Caroline calmly took her kisses and hug with feet on the ground, as did Jason.

The bushy-haired girl seemed to spot her parents, and their father noticed this, walking over to them and saying, "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

Caroline thought they were rather plain-looking people, definitely Muggles, and they seemed rather dazzled by her father. He had that effect on people.

"Yes, sir," the woman said as the bushy-haired girl's father took her trunk and put it on a trolley.

"Sirius Black," her father said, his hand still on Catherine's shoulder. "I'm Hermione's history teacher. Quite a daughter you have here. Top of the class in every subject."

This piqued Caroline's interest in the girl, who really didn't look to be anything special. Muggle-born, skinny, with preppy clothes and slumped shoulders that belied issues with self-confidence.

"We are very proud of her," Mr. Granger said, glancing at Catherine.

"Ah," Caroline's father said, beaming, "allow me to introduce my family. These are my children. Catherine, Caroline, Jason. Kitty's starting at Hogwarts next September. And this is my lovely wife, Cara Black, née Selwyn."

The surnames clearly meant nothing to the Grangers, but Caroline had a feeling that the materials used for their clothing did mean something to these people, and probably the size of their mother's wedding ring didn't hurt.

"Have a wonderful summer, Hermione," their father said, and the girl said, in a high, nervous voice, that she would, and wished him one as well.

Harry and come over, and he tapped Catherine on the shoulder, clearing his throat. He muttered something that Caroline unfortunately didn't catch, and suddenly he had in his hand – the one not in his pocket – a beautiful bouquet of Catherine's favorite flower: the Himalayan blue poppy.

Catherine's eyes grew wide as he triumphantly handed her the bouquet, so terribly pleased with himself. She smelled them, probably to check their authenticity, and ran her fingers carefully along the delicate petals.

Then, she took a deep breath and said, "Daddy, he's not supposed to do that outside of Hogwarts! He's not allowed!"

Harry was stunned at this complaint, and was just about to say, no doubt, how often Catherine did illegal magic, when their father winked at Harry and said, "Not supposed to do what, darling? I didn't see Harry do anything nefarious, did you?" When Catherine took another deep breath, no doubt to make some further complaint, their father lowered his head and his voice and said, "Just take the flowers, Kitty-Cat. You can learn how to do it for yourself soon enough."

Catherine pouted, but she held the flowers as though they were particularly precious, and Caroline and Harry exchanged amused glances at Catherine's dilemma.

Caroline knew that while the summers would be the same as always – maybe better – the rest of her months were bound to grow increasingly dull.

 **A/N: So ends Harry's first year, and onto the summer before Catherine starts school. I hope you're all as excited as I am.**

 **In my writing ahead, Harry has just graduated Hogwarts, so I can promise there's lots of excitement, lemons, adventure, and even some illicit substances to come. These two like to push the envelope. Fasten your seatbelts!**

 **Review Prompt: How big do you think the fight for dominance between these two is going to get, given they're only eleven and twelve when she starts school?**

 **-C**


	17. Gifts

A hot, sticky day in the middle of July drew Cara to Malfoy Manor for an appointment with Narcissa, an appointment Cara had promised to make and keep each time one of her children received a Hogwarts letter.

"Catherine should have something fine to mark the occasion," Narcissa said proudly, setting down the teapot with carefully manicured hands. "Has Sirius given any inclination?"

"No, he hasn't," Cara said, twisting a navy ribbon in her hands, as was her custom at these types of meetings. "Is that usual?"

"Quite," Narcissa said with urgency, lowering her voice as if scandalized that Cara hadn't known. A gap in her teaching. "A fine gift upon the entry of school, although for poorer families, that usually doubles as the wand. And another upon coming of age. For males a pocket-watch is customary. For females, usually jewelry. In our set, its often something from the family vaults."

Cara hummed her understanding. In a way, her coming-of-age gift was her wedding ring. She certainly hoped that wasn't the case for either of her daughters. Not that she would be angry with them for marrying young, but the circumstances had to be positive.

Not like Cara's.

"I suppose I'll have a word with Delia," Cara said softly. "If we get her something that's not at least as good as whatever Adra gets, I can't imagine what her reaction will be."

Narcissa's eyes danced with amusement and she said, "Indeed. Very like her father in that. He always had to have the biggest and brightest toys." Then she rolled her eyes and said softly, "Speaking of toys, I hope he's not buying her a broomstick."

"No," Cara said, frowning. "She's not allowed in her first year. I expect she'll demand one next year, though. I haven't got a clue what for. She's already said she doesn't want to play Quidditch."

"Well, Lucius wants Draco to," Narcissa said darkly, "and you know my husband well enough to know what lengths he'll go to in order to secure it."

Cara hummed again her understanding, recalling when they picked up Catherine's school things the release of a new Nimbus 2001 was being touted by the shops. No doubt this would be purchased for Draco immediately, if Lucius hadn't already placed the order.

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Damon watched Rhea try on her robes again for their father, who had been at work when the family went to Diagon Alley to get her things. None of the children had asked why their mother had been out of the office that day, but they noticed it and thought it peculiar. Damon saw, however, that his mother purchased a very large selection of books all from one author, and although he had not gotten a good look at the cover, he had a feeling they had something to do with her work.

"You look beautiful," their father said, kissing the top of Rhea's head. "So many books!"

Rhea hummed her approval and acknowledgement of this, running her fingers along the pages of one of her course books.

"Rhea and Ginny," their father continued, "and Kitty and Adra all starting in the same year! Isn't Xeno's girl their age too, or is she starting next year?"

"This year, I think," their mother said.

No one asked who Xeno was, but he was clearly an acquaintance of their parents, perhaps another Ministry worker.

Rhea and Cora began to go through the books and Damon watched his sisters' eyes go wide at each new thing they found within them. If Rhea wasn't a Ravenclaw, Damon would be quite surprised indeed.

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Draco took the package in his hands with a rapidly beating heart. He knew his father wasn't pleased with him – that wasn't why he was getting a present. After all, he'd been beaten to top of the class by Granger, but he had a present nonetheless.

When Draco took the top off the box, his breath caught at the side of the sleek, dark, luxurious broomstick within. A Nimbus 2001, the latest model, and one better than Harry's. The current fastest broom in the world, and something that would show his abilities far better than his longsuffering Comet 260.

"I expect you to use it well," his father said sternly, and Draco said that he certainly would. "I mean for you to play on the team, Draco, and I mean for you to win."

It hadn't been necessary for his father to actually say any of that out loud. Draco knew enough from the gift itself, from his father's years of speeches and expectations, to already know all of these things instantly at the sight of the broom in the box.

His mother stood in the doorway watching him open it with a perfectly smooth, perfectly calm face. Had Draco not known his mother, he would have thought she had no particular feelings on the broomstick. Draco knew his mother, though, and he knew perfectly well that this face meant she was disapproving of something his father had done, and she was carefully not displaying her disapproval publically.

What she disapproved of, Draco didn't know and he didn't particularly care. He had wanted that broom ever since seeing the preliminary advertisements, especially given the broom that Harry's father had bought after Harry quite unfairly made the Quidditch team a year early. Whatever misgivings his mother had about any of it was utterly irrelevant to twelve-year-old Draco Malfoy.

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At his wife's request, Sirius had a word with Rabastan about what the Lestranges were getting Adrasteia for her Hogwarts gift, realizing that it was a sensible precaution, with their daughter in mind. Rabastan thought the question was especially amusing and said that Adrasteia was going to be given an owl, and as far as he was concerned, that was gift enough.

Sirius quite agreed. Their children were spoiled enough on a regular basis. Giving them an animal to care for was quite enough of a gift.

So Sirius got permission from Cara to get Catherine either a cat or an owl – whichever she wanted. He had a mind to get her both, but decided not to try Albus's patience, and he did as his daughter requested and bought a cat.

"Liviana," she dubbed the smooth, sleek black cat (which Sirius found very amusing, given what Lily told him about Muggle superstitions), which was part-Kneazle. Those were, Sirius had discovered long ago, the only type of cat that Sirius didn't want to chase off.

"That's a lovely name, dear," Cara said, and Sirius felt a rush of pride at how pleased Catherine was with her new pet. As it happened, Hedwig and Liviana got on better than their owners did, but animals often had kinship that humans struggled to build.

Sirius allowed himself to watch his daughter play with her cat for a while before he followed his wife up to the third floor bedrooms, which she was surveying to get ready for the arrival of the rest of their guests. She seemed surprised when he closed the door to one of the bedrooms behind her, and she raised one of her eyebrows questioningly.

"I've missed you," he said, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a series of kisses.

"You've been home for a month," she answered, slightly breathless. He was doing something right.

"I miss you every minute you're not with me," he said, with utter honestly, before he coaxed her with his lips into hungry kisses. He could still recall with perfect clarity the first time he gave in to his desire for her and they made love on the sofa in his flat. In many ways, they were completely different people now from the desperate teenagers experiencing each other for the first time, still strangers. She hadn't known who she was, and in that moment neither of them had particularly cared.

Remus and James would often joke about how Sirius was supposed to be the perpetual bachelor, never to be tied down by a woman, never to bother with love or soppiness, and yet here he was, a slave to his devotion for his wife. And Sirius, a man who had never liked to be beholden to anyone or anything from the earliest memories of his boyhood, found that nothing gave him greater pleasure than this slavery to Cara and his love for her.

She was mildly reluctant as they stood in the guest bedroom, his hands sneaking into her dress. She tried weakly to pull away from his kisses when his cool hand touched the warm skin of her breast, but then he held her more firmly, kissed her more intently, touched her more tenderly. Cara relented her reluctance, and he eagerly pulled the dress off of her.

No matter how many times Sirius and Cara made love, Sirius felt like the luckiest man alive. Everything about her body, even the scars he had long since stopped finding uncomfortable, astonished him with its exquisite and particular beauty, and everything she did brought forth in him both warmth of contentedness and warmth of lust. The way she touched him had only improved with age, no longer timid and unsure, but instead practiced and savvy. And his hunger for touching her, tasting her, feeling the weight and warmth of her around and above and below him, only grew with time.

When they finally collapsed together on the bed, his lips pressing kisses on her back, between her shoulder blades. He could taste sweat and smell the lingering floral notes of her perfume.

"I suppose we'll have to change the sheets," he teased, tracing his hands up her stomach, grazing his fingers over her pert nipples.

"We wouldn't have to if you weren't such a lusty teenager," she said back, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "I do like watching you be a father, you know."

"Hmm?"

"I've never said this before, but there's something very…sexy about watching you be paternal. Like seeing you indulge Kitty, or watching you teach Caro something about the garden, or giving something of yours to Jason. It means a lot to him, you know. He so badly wants to please you, more than either of the girls."

"He always pleases me," Sirius said into her skin, realizing the words as he was saying them. "Jason has never given me a reason not to be proud and pleased, and my only worry is that someday I won't have anything to teach him. He's not like me, and it's hard to know what to say to him, sometimes."

Sirius half expected Cara to tell him something about what to say or how to say it, or something bracing and comforting about how Sirius would figure it out. But instead, she rolled over, kissed his collarbone, and closed her sleepy eyes.

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Severus stirred his tea lazily, not looking up at Lucius, who had only ever come to Spinner's End twice. Sirius and Cara had tried to talk Severus out of living there, but he found that once Lily and Cara and Narcissa forced their way in to redecorate, it was actually rather pleasant, and the neighborhood mattered very little. He didn't socialize with this neighbors, and that would not have changed no matter where he lived.

"What you're asking of me is not just questionable, Lucius, it is unacceptable."

"If you don't help me, Severus, I'll go to Flint directly," Lucius said, and Severus could hear the smirk in his voice. "You know perfectly well that Marcus Flint would be within his rights to arrange such a thing, and it could all be unofficial. You understand. But I never expected that you would go soft, Severus. You've spent too long pandering to the wives, it seems."

Severus could feel a wave of rage at the insinuations, but he knew Lucius well enough to know that was exactly what the older man was hoping for. He lifted his eyes finally to look directly at Lucius and said calmly, "Just because we saw which way the wind was blowing and did something about it doesn't mean you should be bitter, Lucius. And honestly, hasn't it been an awfully long time for us to be having these same arguments?" Lucius's nostrils flared.

"You want, you go to Flint," Severus continued. "And yes, you will probably still get what you want. Call me soft and cowardly if you will. Perhaps that makes you feel as though you have regained some of your own virility."

A low blow, but worth the way Lucius's jaw twitched. As soon as Lucius walked angrily out of the house, Severus ran through the list of people he might inform about this little visit, and while Narcissa was tempting, he decided that in spite of his own pride, the most useful person was a fellow colleague.

He initiated the Floo call, putting his head through, pleased that the very person he needed to speak to was sitting in his kitchen, having a cup of tea.

"Remus," he said firmly. "We need to have a chat. There's some news you'll need to bring along to Selwyn Manor in a couple of days."

Remus raised his eyebrows, beckoning Severus to come through fully.

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Blaise didn't need to begin packing, but it was something to do. His mother was out for drinks with someone – he never bothered asking who – and he wouldn't be seeing any school friends until mid-August. He'd gone to Draco's birthday party, which had been rather dull, by Blaise's standards, but otherwise he'd spent his days flipping through course books as though actually reading them and intently looking through his mother's old pictures.

Part of it was to keep his eye on people who were important, people who could do him favors at a later date, and part of it was to admire the beautiful women his mother had in her social circle. His mother was a beautiful woman, a model, actually. In such a lifestyle, she had many friends as beautiful as her, or more so. Blaise felt that to develop himself as a man, it was important to decide his likes and dislikes now, while he was still a boy.

Staying ahead of the curve, after all. His mother had taught him the importance of that. One step ahead of all friends and rivals was the only way to get what you wanted in all things in life. And Blaise was adamant that he would always get exactly what he wanted. And if he was lucky, all without spending a single extra Sickle.

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Narcissa sat on the balcony, not because the day was particularly warm, but because she knew that Lucius had left open the window to his study. She carefully sketched the flowers about the fountain as she listened to her husband's conversation with Flint and son.

She'd been suspicious when he invited the Flints to dinner, but when he asked them into his study, that sealed it for her. Her jaw tightened the longer she listened, and she wondered what she should tell Sirius about the matter.

"It seems perfectly reasonable to me," Flint was saying in his slimy, slippery way. She could just picture him bowing his massive head on his massive shoulders to her husband. "A generous charitable contribution to your alma mater."

Rolling her eyes, Narcissa bit back the retort that generous would be purchasing Nimbus 2001s for all the Quidditch teams, not merely the one he wanted his son to play for. But it wouldn't do to have them hear her muttering under her breath, even if they couldn't hear what she was saying. She didn't want them to close the window.

"Indeed," her husband said.

"And I am sure Draco is a fine flyer," the younger Flint said, that same simpering tone as his father. It was disgusting, how certain undesirable traits seemed to be passed through families like eye color and hair texture. "We will need someone with finesse to replace Higgs. You know the Seeker to beat is Potter, of course."

Her neck stiffened. Her son was a good flyer, but she'd seen the elder Potter play Quidditch. Even as a Chaser, he was clearly an incredible player. If his son was anything like the father, Draco would need much more than a faster broom to beat the Gryffindors. After all, though Narcissa would never say so out loud, her husband had never been the greatest of Quidditch players. He had merely been very fortunate to play on a team that was stronger and faster than most of the competition, and some of the better players to go through in their generation were too young to be a threat before he graduated. Narcissa had little doubt that head-to-head, James Potter would have far out-played Lucius.

"Then we have a deal," Lucius said firmly. "We have an…understanding."

"Indeed we do," the elder Flint said, and she could imagine them shaking hands. Narcissa slipped into her room, drawing her shawl about her more fully, feeling herself shiver slightly, nothing to do with the temperature of the air. She closed the glass doors to the balcony delicately, anxious that her husband should not hear them, and she closed her sketchbook, setting it on her vanity.

Narcissa sat at her writing desk, pulled out a fresh bit of parchment and a quill, and paused with the quill over the inkwell. She had to use her words delicately, because technically she didn't think there was a rule against what her husband had done, unethical as it may be. She sighed, dipped her quill in the well, and began to write a letter to her cousin. Sirius did have some sway in the Slytherin families, as much as he despised them, and perhaps even more with the Gryffindor families. If Lucius was going to fund the Slytherin House, the least Narcissa could do was be certain that the playing field, as it were, was level.

And Sirius had more than enough gold and friends to see that it happened.

 **A/N: So, Kitty has a cat, Draco has a new broom, and we've got a peek at some of our more minor and secondary characters. I know a lot of you wanted Lucius to be accepting of Narcissa's work during the war, but I've decided to go the other way. It was really the only way I could justify any rivalry between Draco's set and Harry's set. We can't have it all butterflies and rainbows, now, can we?**

 **Review Prompt: Which family would you rather be a part of – the Blacks, the Potters, the Lestranges, or the Malfoys?**

 **I'd probably pick Potters, myself. Imagine having James as a stay-at-home dad. He'd be a blast.**

 **-C**


	18. Summer at Selwyn Manor

Harry woke up on the morning of the 31st of July and felt a rush of excitement. He was twelve years old, officially.

He got up and pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt, knowing breakfast would be ready in the dining room and waiting for him to arrive. He ran a comb through his hair knowing nothing would really help it lay flat. Still, he felt like he'd accomplished something by making the effort.

The only days someone other than Uncle Sirius sat at the head of table were birthdays. For Harry, this meant on his birthday he sat at the head, and in August Caroline did, but in May it was Jason's seat, and Catherine's in April.

"Adra showed me her wand yesterday," Catherine was telling Jason lazily as she tapped her fingernails on the table. "The acacia wood is beautiful, but I'm so jealous. I wanted dragon-heartstring. She's got dragon-heartstring. Of course," she continued, smirking, "mine's longer."

Harry felt his neck go hot as she looked up at him, knowing she was still pointing that at him. His wand was only ten-and-a-half inches, and hers was eleven. Catherine pointed this out frequently, because they both had phoenix tail feathers, and his redwood exterior was more attractive than the plain holly wood of hers.

His mother told him not to worry about it. Wands found the wizard that suited them best, and how long or attractive the wand was didn't matter for the magic.

"Kitty," Uncle Sirius said sternly. "Today is Harry's day. Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry murmured his thanks as the rest of the table chorused it. Harry sat at the head of the table, Uncle Sirius at his right, his father at his left, Aunt Cara across the long table. He smiled at them, feeling his rush of happiness again, and picking up his fork, signaling that everyone could begin to eat.

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Fabian watched his daughter hold her wand, her very first wand, in nervous hands. Hazel and unicorn hair, ten inches, swishy, Rhea had proudly reported to her father when she showed him all her school things, and now she brought it out several times a day when her mother wasn't around in order to practice spells in her books, or even just to hold it. Fabian encouraged her to try some of the simpler spells, nothing that could break something or make dishes run away, but basic charms and the like. She'd done them all very well with only a few tries. Whatever House she ended up in, she would be a credit to it.

"Keep the wand a little higher," he told her, leaning against the frame of her bedroom door. She jolted, turning around, eyes wide with nervous surprise. Fabian smiled comfortingly. "A little higher, darling. But otherwise, you've got it very well down."

She nodded, setting the wand down on the table and sitting down in her desk chair. Fabian tried not to frown, seeing her set it down so carelessly. His wartime instincts told him to always keep your wand on hand, to never leave it lying around, even if you were right beside it. Always have it on your person.

But he reminded himself that she didn't have to take such precautions. She was a child of peace.

"Dad, when I go to Hogwarts, how will I be Sorted?"

Fabian smiled, remembering all the terrifying ideas he and Gideon had about Sorting when they arrived. Fighting monstrous creatures and dueling and all kinds of things. Of course, it had been silly to think they would be expected to know and do magic as soon as they arrived, but children and fear had a lot of silly effects on the imagination.

"You really want to know?" he asked, smiling at her a she nodded nervously. "You put on a hat."

Rhea's nose wrinkled with confusion and disbelief, and Fabian shook with silent, repressed laughter at her response, assuring her that really, all she would have to do was put a hat on her head.

He knew she didn't believe him, but she'd be relieved in the moment with everyone else. It was a good bonding experience, Fabian thought.

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Most of Harry's birthday was spent with Catherine, who particularly wanted to pester him with challenges until his friends arrived for the rest of the summer. They'd played three games of chess, one of Exploding Snap, and did three broom races by the time the Longbottoms and the Weasleys arrived.

"Arthur!" Uncle Sirius said happily as he ushered the Weasleys into the ballroom, where everyone was meeting and greeting while the elf took care of luggage. "Everybody, the Weasleys are here! You lot know the Longbottoms, I think, and the Potters?" He gestured to the families in question. "And my lovely wife, Cara. And these are my children, Catherine, Jason, and Caroline. Care to introduce your clan, Arthur?"

Ron's father, a jolly man with ginger hair, laughed and said, "Certainly! This is Molly, my wife. And Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny, our youngest."

"Surely there were more of you," Harry's father teased.

"We've got two older sons," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "Bill works in Egypt and Charlie works in Romania."

Aunt Cara, who was having her hand kissed by Mr. Weasley, said, "That must be difficult, having your children so far away."

Mrs. Weasley and Aunt Cara began to have a conversation about the recent Weasley trip to Romania to see Charlie at the dragon colony, and Ron walked over to where Neville and Catherine were gathered around the snacks. Harry noticed that Ron looked first at Catherine, then quickly looked at Harry when she started to look at Ron, Ron's ears turning red.

"Having a good summer, then?" Harry asked, and Ron nodded, glancing at Catherine again. "Isn't your sister Kitty's age?"

Catherine perked up at this, and she excused herself to introduce herself to Ginny Weasley, who was having her ear talked off by a skeptical-looking Caroline.

"We need to keep the twins away from Caro," Neville said softly. "I can't imagine the havoc they'd whip up between them."

"I think we ought to keep them away from Catherine," Ron said under his breath.

Harry followed Ron's gaze to the twins, and he realized George was looking at Catherine with apparent interest, and Fred was smirking, seeming to realize the same thing.

What was it about Catherine that people thought was so interesting? Harry couldn't figure out what was so special about her. She was brilliant, but so was Hermione, and none of them looked at her like that.

"Mum brought you a present," Ron said, obviously sensing that Harry wanted a change of topic. "And she got something small for Catherine's sister, since we're here for her birthday, too."

Harry hummed his acknowledgement as the twins approached the Black sisters, who greeted the Weasleys with interest. Fred said something, and George blushed slightly. Caroline giggled, and Catherine's eyes grew slightly wide, an expression Harry had never seen on her face before.

Without even knowing what to call it, Harry decided that he liked it, that it suited her better than the expression of boredom and superiority she often had.

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Delia Lestrange knew she was something of an outsider in her social circle, although she never would have suspected it before the end of the war, if someone had told her marrying a Lestrange would mean she wouldn't be close to the Blacks and the Malfoys and the like. Rabastan's sister liked Delia, but they were both too quiet to grow especially close. Cara's husband had very little patience for those in society, and while he was always pleasant to Delia, he didn't go out of his way to be anything except polite.

The Malfoys weren't much better. Narcissa paid her mind, but Delia was second place to the Blacks, very obviously, and Lucius pandered to Rabastan, but he had no social obligation to pay any attention to Delia, and so he didn't.

Lonely didn't really describe her life, but it wasn't terribly far off.

"Adra has been very good about looking through her books," Delia said happily.

Rabastan's lips twitched with amusement and he said, "Darling, she flips through them when you're around. She's not read a word."

Some days, Delia wished she could switch out her daughter for Catherine Black. It wasn't that she didn't love Adrasteia, but she made it so difficult to be proud.

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The four families sat around the long Selwyn Manor dining room table, and Harry felt more uncomfortable than ever about sitting in Uncle Sirius's seat. With so many Weasleys added to the mass of people around the table, it was nearly full, and Harry realized this must be how Uncle Sirius felt presiding over major society events.

He smiled across the table at Aunt Cara, who was giving him an encouraging look. There was much he didn't know about the childhoods of Aunt Cara and Uncle Sirius – "When you're older," his parents always said – but he knew that whatever Aunt Cara's life had been, it wasn't very happy. He suspected it had something to do with her weak magic. She was never fully at ease at large social gatherings, and yet in this group, even with so many strangers, Harry realized she was quite at ease. She seemed…happy.

Dinner was, as usual, delicious. Catherine sniffed at his food choices, but that was typical of her, and Harry tried not to take it to heart. She was distracted from her food, anyway, by George Weasley, who sat across from her and was telling her stories of, no doubt, his many misdeeds and pranks with his twin.

Harry had seen that expression before, though, the expression on Catherine's face. She found George and his stories amusing, but she considered him beneath her. In a way, he probably was. Harry found this expression of hers both vexing and satisfying, and he had no explanation for himself as to why either of these reactions made any sense at all.

"Peas, Harry?" Uncle Sirius said cheerfully, holding up a bowl of peas.

"Oh, yeah, sure."

He focused on his food, enjoying it, knowing cake and presents were soon to come.

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The word Adrasteia would have used to describe herself – not so anyone could hear, but to herself – was second. She was only going to inherit the Lestrange fortune if her brothers died childless. She only had her father's attention when nothing was going on in Aunt Cara's life. She knew her brothers preferred their cousins to her, and she suspected that if Catherine ever had to pick between them, she would choose Harry Potter's company over Adrasteia's. Catherine had never given a particular reason for this except for a niggling feeling in the back of Adrasteia's mind.

Truth be told, Adrasteia preferred the company of others to her own company as well. She found her own negativity tiresome, and the more she was alone the more she found her mind breeding off her fears to create all manner of terrible scenarios.

She thought that getting her Hogwarts letter would fix things. Her father would be proud of her, she would go away to school where she would be important simply because of her surname, and with a built-in friend and a possible dormitory mate. Now, however, sitting in her bedroom knowing that Catherine was at Selwyn Manor celebrating Harry Potter's birthday, Adrasteia was thinking that it was possible Catherine would be Sorted into Gryffindor, spending her time with Potter and his friends, abandoning her cousin, perhaps even becoming a rival to her cousin.

And if there was one thing Adrasteia did not want in life, it was to fight Catherine Black, because she'd seen enough battles between Catherine and the world to know that Catherine always won in the end.

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Harry smiled as the table, full of people now in the warmest way possible, finished singing their felicitations and happy returns. He waited for the subtle nod across the table from Aunt Cara, who always did this to tell him when he could blow out his candles – a remnant gesture from early childhood.

All twelve candles were taken down in a single breath, setting an impressive precedent for Catherine to try to match in April, for her own birthday. Of course, this year, he thought as his father cut the cake, Catherine would have her birthday at Hogwarts.

Would the elves do a cake for her? Would Uncle Sirius arrange for a cake to be made for his daughter?

"Where's Uncle Remus?" Catherine asked as her father passed her a slice of cake, Harry digging his fork into his own moist slice.

"Full moon," Uncle Sirius said casually, and Harry saw Mrs. Weasley's head jerk in surprise.

Harry knew, because he'd been told, that there were still those who suffered from fear of werewolves as a rule, because of old prejudices and terrible stories told when people in his parents' generation and older were children. Harry had grown up knowing that Uncle Remus was a werewolf, as had the Blacks and the Longbottoms and the Prewetts. Apparently Mrs. Weasley had been taught as a child that werewolves were dangerous and fierce.

She didn't comment on the statement, however, and Catherine spoke – not seeing the small action by Mrs. Weasley.

"Can we go by tomorrow, Daddy? I want to bring him some chocolate."

"And where did you get chocolate, Kitty-Cat?" he said, tapping her nose playfully. She scrunched her nose in annoyance at the gesture.

"I've been saving," she said, flicking a bit of hair over her shoulder. "I like to have some for when I see Uncle Remus after the moon."

"I'll ask him and we'll see," Uncle Sirius said, glancing up at Harry, who nodded his understanding.

Once, when Harry was seven and Catherine was six, they'd gone to see Uncle Remus the day after a full moon because Catherine insisted that she needed to see him, in spite of her father's reticence. Uncle Remus had experienced a bad moon – prior to the advances Harry's mother and her colleagues had made with the Wolfsbane potion. Uncle Remus had been very weak, and quite bloodied up, and Catherine had pushed through the adults into the room to see him. When she laid eyes on him she began to cry so terribly that Uncle Remus was distraught and Harry had even been horrified at the sound.

It really bothered him, to this day, when Catherine cried. Harry supposed it was because of how happy and carefree and confident she usually was, and when she was truly upset she looked like a completely different, frail person that made Harry feel helpless.

He hated feeling helpless.

Harry ate his cake thoughtfully, enjoying the perfectly fluffy cake with its sufficiently sugary icing, and he enjoyed having all these people around to savor it with him.

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Ron gratefully accepted a second slice of cake from Mrs. Potter, who was listening with polite interest to Ron's father talk about work.

"I've got a car you know," he was saying, "a Ford Anglia, and for curiosity's sake, I've been making some…improvements to it."

Ron watched Mrs. Potter's delicate lips turn into a smile as she said, "Oh? Improvements?"

"Well, I've made it fly, you know, not intending to use it, because that would break the Statue of Secrecy—"

"Quite."

"—but I've included an Invisibility Booster, as well, for test runs, just in case some poor Muggle is nearby." Ron saw that his father's ears were starting to go pink. "Not that I've done any test runs yet, you understand. We live so close to the village."

"Isn't that the car you drove here, Arthur?" Mrs. Black said, smiling gently.

Ron swallowed a too-large bite of cake, looking at Mrs. Black and feeling slightly small and embarrassed, although he didn't know why. Professor Black's wife was certainly beautiful, and Ron supposed Catherine would look like her mother when she'd grown up and had children and all that. Very kind eyes, structured features, and the shiniest, softest-looking hair Ron had ever seen.

"Indeed, it is."

"You know, my husband as an old motorbike," she said thoughtfully, her gaze trailing up the table to where Professor Black was laughing with Harry and Mr. Potter. "He did similar tinkering. No Invisibility Booster, but it flies. He hasn't flown in it quite some time, not since Kitty was very little. But he would fly it around the grounds sometimes. I'm sure he would be very interested in your car."

"You think so?" Ron's father said cheerfully, glancing up at Professor Black, who was cutting a second slice of cake for Catherine, who kissed his cheek thankfully.

She was eating a second slice of cake. Ron wasn't entirely sure, but he thought this might be what love looked like. A beautiful girl, a girl who understood pranks and livening up detention, who knew her way around a broomstick, and who ate second slices of cake. So she was a Holyhead Harpies fan.

Such things could be forgiven.

Catherine glanced down the table, possibly to see her mother, and when her line of sight passed over Ron he felt heat pool in his ears and he looked rapidly down at his plate. When he glanced up again, he saw that she was exchanging some kind of discussion with George, who was watching her with interest and wonder, the same kind of interest and wonder Ron felt, if Ron had to take a guess.

Something in Ron deflated as he looked back down at his plate. George was older, cleverer, with a reputation for being fun and brilliant, and a bloody good Quidditch player. As usual, one of his brothers seemed to be beating him to something he wanted. He was starting to wish that Professor Black hadn't invited them to Selwyn Manor after all.

 **A/N: So, another week has passed in our world, and quite a bit is happening. Harry is twelve, Catherine has a wand (anyone who read the first part will find it poignant, methinks, the wand she has), and she's picked up another admirer.**

 **Review Prompt: Any guesses how Harry and Catherine are going to adapt to going to school together?**

 **-C**


	19. Layers and Whispers

Neville frowned at the back garden as he pulled on his t-shirt. He wasn't sure what they were up to, but he saw Professor Black and Mr. Weasley showing each other their vehicles – Mr. Weasley a Ford Anglia, and Professor Black a motorbike that looked quite old. They were showing each other mechanisms, nodding with enthusiasm at the buttons and dials they were showing off. Neville shook his head, puzzled, and ran a comb through his hair. He wanted breakfast before trying to figure them out.

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Ginny sat down with Catherine at the breakfast table passing the butter across the table to the brunette. Ginny and Catherine had hit it off well, bonding over their mutual friendship with the quiet Rhea, and their long year spent being jealous of Ron and Harry and their time at Hogwarts. Since arriving at Selwyn Manor, Ginny had spent a considerable amount of time with Catherine, racing brooms, playing games, and talking to the twins.

For instance, Ginny could tell that George was smitten with Catherine like she'd never seen him before, but she also knew that Catherine was either not aware or didn't think much of the attention. Perhaps Catherine was used to boys looking at her like that, Ginny had told herself, glancing over at George, who was watching Catherine over his cereal. After all, Catherine was almost unfairly pretty.

But then, she had unfairly attractive parents, so Ginny supposed it wasn't really Catherine's fault.

"What was that sound this morning?" Ginny asked her new friend.

"I think that was Daddy starting his motorbike," Catherine said, scratching her cheek tiredly. "I heard your dad talking to him about it last night. They were both very excited about it. Men, you know."

Ginny hummed her understanding, glancing over at her brothers. Men, indeed.

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Jason stood closer to Catherine than he normally would have done when they watched their father and Mr. Weasley install an invisibility device on their father's old flying motorbike. If Catherine noticed, she hadn't made any sign of it.

The truth was, while Jason found the Weasley twins to be generally affable and amiable, and while he didn't have a particular problem with Ron, Jason didn't like the way Ron and one of the twins kept looking at Catherine, nor did he like the fact that Catherine hadn't seemed to notice either thing. It wasn't the predatory look some boys or their mothers gave Catherine during society events – the people who looked at her and saw status and power and money, and not a person. But it was still a look that held awe and desire, and Jason knew that such looks could bring no good to anyone.

Not to mention the twins were harbingers of trouble, and the last thing Catherine needed was a great inducement to trouble.

"D'you think we're ever going to figure out what they're up to?" Catherine asked mildly, watching the two men work gleefully.

Jason shrugged. His father seemed like a weight was off his shoulders when he worked, like when he had years lifted from his face and worries taken from his eyes. When Jason thought about the math, his father was only in his early thirties, and yet sometimes his father seemed so much older, so much more tired than that. It probably had something to do with the war, although they'd never really talked about it. Neither of Jason's parents had sat down any of their children to talk about the war, and none of the children asked, because all three of them could see shadows pass over their parents' faces when it was mentioned.

Jason supposed they saw many awful things.

"I wonder if Daddy ever took Mum on that bike," Catherine said thoughtfully, stirring some sugar into her tea. "I bet they would have looked great on it."

He just hummed vaguely, noncommittally, as she lifted the cup to her lips, and he didn't bother reacting with sympathy when she hissed at burning her mouth with the too-hot tea.

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"She's been dreadfully boring," Aeson said to his brother, Brontes, who was flipping through their sister's things. "Just…pouting. You know, more than usual."

"No letters from Catherine," Brontes said, frowning slightly. "Maybe she's bored because they've not been talking much? I know there's lots of people at Selwyn Manor right now."

Aeson nodded thoughtfully. Adrasteia did seem to derive most of her enjoyment from time and correspondence with their cousin, Catherine. If the two girls weren't speaking, that could explain Adrasteia's sullenness, although Aeson couldn't figure why Catherine wasn't writing.

But he did know that Adrasteia had too much pride to write first. He hurried to his own room to draft a coded letter to Caroline, to ask her to do him a favor in exchange for one of his Chocolate Frog cards – her choice – to get Catherine to end Adrasteia's reign of misery and brighten up all their summers.

He added a reference to her upcoming birthday, wished her many happy returns, and set about bribing Brontes to send it for him, since he wasn't allowed to use the owl more than once a week.

He and Caroline had a tendency to over-use the birds.

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Rolling her eyes, Lily said, "I can't believe you're letting him do this."

"Have you seen him, Lily?" James said, smiling sadly. "I mean, look." He gestured out the kitchen window to the back garden, where Sirius and Arthur were showing the car and the motorbike to the kids. "I haven't seen him that happy in years. Have you?"

Lily had to admit to herself that she hadn't, in fact, seen Sirius so happy in many years. Not for any extended frame of time. For moments at her wedding to James he'd seemed that happy, and occasionally when looking at Cara or his children, Lily would see him get a faraway, loving, light look in his eyes that made his face seem younger.

"Besides," Cara said, pouring herself some tea on the other side of the kitchen table, "it's the best way to distract Kitty from the fact that she's not going to be able to see Remus today."

Although it wasn't her fault that Remus had a rough night, Lily felt embarrassed and responsible. It seemed the small tweaks she'd introduced – Remus as her usual test subject – in attempts to make the potion taste better had reduced the effectiveness and he'd gotten some rather awful wounds. She would have to put him on the regular dosages again when he was at Hogwarts, but she would keep working on the formula. It didn't seem right that the only management to be done was so disgusting.

"Well, there's one thing we do know about Kitty," James said softly, frowning, "one thing she's got in common with her mum." Cara hummed a prompt for him to explain. "She'd make a terrible Healer, wouldn't she? Doesn't have much of a stomach for gore."

A shiver passed over Cara's face, and although James hadn't meant to dig up the past, Lily knew Cara was thinking of the war, and of how she'd fainted after committing a murder to save Sirius. The children didn't know, not yet, and Lily couldn't argue with that. They were all still so young, and public record had Bellatrix Lestrange as the killer of Voldemort, anyway.

Sometimes the past should stay untouched.

"I'll check in on Remus while they're mucking about with those silly things," Lily said, setting down her own empty teacup. "If any of the children ask, I've had to look into some things for work. Better not to lie."

James nodded and Cara hummed, lifting the cup to her lips.

So many years on, Lily thought as she rinsed her cup, and still the war and its remnants hung over them all like a shadow. She wondered if it would ever lift completely, or if this was part of the price they all paid to raise their children in peace.

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Ourania flicked the bothersome fringe from her eyes, her nostrils twitching with irritation. She needed to have her mother trim her hair again, but she knew that her mother was terribly busy with something for work, and so she hadn't asked. Whatever it was, it involved her mother doing a lot of reading and research, and her parents talking in hushed voices when they thought their children might walk in.

"D'you think Mum's in trouble?" Cora asked, above Ourania and to her left where the two girls lounged on the lawn.

"What?"

"You know, trouble. Like at work. She does all kinds of risky things, and maybe she's been research her defense, or precedent, or…something."

Ourania shrugged.

She doubted it. Her mother did deal will all manner of dangerous elements, but nowadays her work wasn't very politically challenging. Most people recognized other creatures as having equal if sometimes different rights to wizards. Obviously, centaurs and goblins and werewolves didn't have the same needs as the average wizard, but they still had equal legal status, and that was just that. It was actually strange for Ourania to think that this wasn't always the case, that her mother had done an awful lot of hard work for many years to make this a reality.

"Well, if it is something like that," Ourania said, skeptical, "I reckon we'll know about it soon enough."

"What are we going to do when Rhea's at school?"

Ourania closed her eyes to keep from rolling them and hurting Cora's feelings.

"What we always do. We'll spend days with Auntie Molly and have dinner with Mum and Dad and sometimes Uncle Gideon. And you and Damon will bore me to tears and I won't even have Ginny to brighten me up."

"I hadn't thought of that," Cora said mournfully. "They're both leaving this year. Two whole years until I get to go! It's not fair."

Ourania bit her lip. She would not allow her frustration to show. Two years. That was nothing. She and Damon had to wait three.

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Lily got back to the manor just in time to see Sirius take off with Catherine on the bike in front of him.

"What is he doing?" she asked Cara, horrified.

Cara had a tight smile as she waved at her husband and eldest daughter, who were making sounds of delight and excitement.

"My dear husband," Cara said tightly, "made a very stupid rule and hadn't realized it when he made it, that those of Hogwarts age didn't need an adult in the car. And one of the Weasley twins was driving, and the other got in the back and invited Kitty to join him, and Sirius nearly lost it. He packed the boys in the car and took Kitty on the bike with him because nobody but him was going to fly with his Kitty-Cat." Her smile twitched. "I think he forgets she's still very much a child."

"Those twins hardly are," Lily said, frowning slightly. "They're, what, fourteen? James proposed to me the first time at about fourteen."

"Yes, but that was James being daft," Cara said smiling. "And you weren't eleven at the time."

Lily hummed her agreement. One of the twins – she still couldn't tell which – paid a great deal of attention to Catherine, who seemed utterly oblivious. Cara and Lily both knew that the fear wasn't that Catherine would one day date – although Lily thought that would be a difficult day for Sirius. The great fear was probably tied to memories of his own family starting to try to arrange his married life when he turned eleven. When he was Sorted, when his mother bemoaned how it would injure his marriage prospects, that was the beginning of what he'd thought for years was the end of his relationship with his family.

And now Catherine was eleven, and beautiful, and boys were already starting to take notice that she was a very attractive and intelligent and fun young girl, and it wouldn't be long until he had other people from pureblood society trying to maneuver Sirius or Cara or even Catherine into an agreement. Cara and Sirius would never, Lily was sure, but Catherine could be so silly. And if she got Sorted into Slytherin – which was always a possibility – with Adrasteia Lestrange, there was no telling what she could be talked into. It would break her father's heart if Catherine bought into that ancient mess.

"I suppose we'll have to make sure dinner is ready for them," Lily said softly. "Is Molly still chatting with your elf?"

"Yes, what a woman," Cara said, blinking bewildered. "She finds the simplest things fascinating."

Lily smiled, linking her arm with Cara's and walking her into the house. She didn't have the heart to tell her best friend that the things Cara took for granted as simple would amaze the vast majority of people in the world, that was how wealthy Cara had always been, even when she was raised in the cellar.

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Sirius excused before the end of dinner and said he had some boring business he had to take care of, which wasn't exactly a lie. He went to the arranged place to meet Fabian, a place they hadn't agreed to meet since the days of the war, the early days when they were clearly on the same side and nothing between them was secretive.

"How are the kids?" Sirius asked when Fabian arrived, his eyes full of concern.

"Rhea's nervous," Fabian said. "She doesn't believe me that she only has to try on a hat. Have you told Kitty anything?"

"She hasn't even asked," Sirius said, smiling. "Harry may have told her, but I doubt it. She's probably just too proud to be scared. What's up, mate? What's with all the secrecy?"

Fabian inhaled a breath, and let it out slowly, forcefully. Whatever this was, it had him afraid.

"I love Dorcas," he said slowly. "You probably knew that before she did. Probably loved her before the war and just didn't realize. But you know her, Sirius. She's always looking for someone to save, something to right. Maybe she would have been different if not for the Order, but I think she's addicted to the danger, and she just can't stop herself, like she doesn't have any common sense. We've got four kids, Sirius. I don't know why she can't just leave well enough alone and focus on one bloody thing."

Sirius nodded, not fully understanding, but knowing if Fabian wanted him to, details would already have been given. Sirius knew better than most how Dorcas's overdeveloped sense of justice and her insatiable curiosity could get her and others into trouble. The war might have ended a little differently if she hadn't been taking her spying further than advised.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered.

The whispering was a habit, an old habit he thought he'd forgotten, but it came back just like balancing his motorbike had that afternoon.

"Things may get ugly," Fabian said softly. "I don't know how soon or how ugly or for how long, but it will probably happen. And I need to know I can count on you to watch out for Dorcas no matter what."

Sirius's nostrils twitched. Looking out for Dorcas had almost killed him, and if not for Cara it would have done. But…. But Dorcas kept his secrets, Cara's secrets, like so few people did, kept them even from Fabian and Gideon. She'd done so much for Remus, for so many people, Sirius did feel he owed her a little bit.

And he hadn't forgotten how close she'd been with Caradoc, even if Fabian had. And Sirius certainly couldn't forget the look in Caradoc's eyes in those final moments when Sirius damaged his own soul forever.

He owed her a thing or two, he figured.

"Of course, Fabian. You know you never have to ask."

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When Sirius came to bed that night, Cara was sitting by their bedroom window, frowning at the not-quite-full moon. She was thinking of poor Remus, and of the last time she'd seen him brutally injured, and the first time. She could close her eyes and picture almost perfectly the way he'd collapsed at the door of Sirius's flat, how he'd taken ages to recover, the three of them living in that little flat together, while she and Sirius were falling in love, and how stifling and inconvenient it all was, and how terrible she felt that she'd been annoyed at Remus's presence when he so clearly needed them.

"Where were you?" she asked softly when Sirius closed the door behind him.

Sirius said nothing for a long moment, and she had a horrible sensation rush through her, a heightened anxiety so familiar from her days in the war, all the spying and shuffling of secrets, her own and those of others.

"I needed to meet with Fabian about something," Sirius finally said. "It's about Dorcas's work. He's worried about her ruffling feathers, I expect, and he wants me to keep an eye out and an ear to the ground in case I need to grease palms or remind people of their place. You know."

Cara did know, and she heard loud and clear the "I expect" that Sirius very clearly tossed in to keep from lying without worrying her. Whatever Fabian was worried about with Dorcas, he hadn't actually told Sirius, and Sirius was hoping for the best. It was naïve, especially knowing what they knew about the world, about how so many people in power still felt about the work Dorcas was doing to support marginalized and dehumanized communities of old. Sirius's optimism didn't reach his eyes, and she didn't buy into it, not completely.

But she got into bed beside him and blew out the candle by her bed without saying another word on the matter, because she so badly wanted to believe, like he wanted to believe, that ruffling a few feathers was all they would have to be concerned with.

 **A/N: So… Sirius is returning old favors, perhaps? Promising to, anyway. How far will the people in his life go to protect him from more suffering? Or perhaps…how far will he go to protect the people in his life?**

 **Review Prompt: What sort of socks d'you suppose the Marauders would wear? All four.**

 **-C**


	20. The Eve of Battle

When Remus was back on his feet, the first thing he did was visit the Selwyn Manor to say hello to everyone there, to deliver Harry's and Caroline's very late birthday presents, and to reassure Lily that it was far from her fault that he'd been such a mess.

After all, he was a willing test subject for her attempts to improve the very excellent potion she had been helping to create, and she hadn't forced anything upon him. He had always known the risks.

It was very interesting to get to know the Weasleys, as he had taught quite a few of their children, and would be beginning to teach the last of them in a matter of weeks.

The very next morning, he read his paper, thinking he was going to be getting back to life as it always was, when he saw a very shocking headline in the newspaper:

 _Dorcas Prewett, Ministry worker for Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures, opens fraud investigations on famous author, Gilderoy Lockhart_

Remus's jaw dropped. He'd read a couple of Lockhart's books, tosh though they were. He'd been all the rage with middle-aged women, perhaps because he was attractive, flirtatious, and supposedly quite talented at fighting Dark Forces throughout the world. He and Sirius had been getting a laugh out of them when teenagers were reading them in class, although Remus did not allow them as sources for essays, especially as Lockhart's works grew increasingly opposed to the idea that "creatures" were individuals separate from their labelling, which was what Remus and Dorcas and most forward-thinking people believed nowadays.

Fraud allegations.

While Remus wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be right, especially as he knew Dorcas wouldn't do something like this without doing her homework extensively, he knew this would rock many boats. There were people opposed to Dorcas's works, people within the Ministry who were considering Lockhart's books as the proof needed that her views were mainstreaming dangerous elements, and that people were not sufficiently protected from Dark elements.

Many of these opponents, ironically, had been Death Eaters not too terribly long ago.

What he couldn't fathom was how she was going to pull this off without any injury coming to her family, her reputation, perhaps even her health. He vowed silently to keep a very close eye on Rhea at Hogwarts, just in case students took their parents' battles into their own hands, like they had done during Remus's school years, during the early days of the war.

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Severus moved in early at Hogwarts every year, but he was especially keen to move in early this year. Albus greeted him as soon as he arrived at the castle, smiling vaguely.

"Have you seen what Dorcas has done?" Albus asked.

"Indeed," Severus said coolly, "and I wish to not speak about it. What I do wish to speak about is how to manage certain students, should they be placed in my House."

"Whichever students do you mean, Severus?" Albus said with amused feigned innocence.

Severus just looked at Albus levelly until the older man led the way in, gesturing toward the stairs that would take them down to Severus's quarters.

The key was that Adrasteia Lestrange would almost certainly be Sorted into Slytherin. This was fine, expected, and possibly the most important thing for the upcoming Sorting. The real question was where Catherine Black would end up, and how the politics of families and Houses would go wherever she ended up. He half-hoped she was Sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff – unlikely as either seemed – so that he could avoid her father's wrathful disappointment or the frustration of another Potter and Black causing trouble from Gryffindor Tower.

"You know there's nothing either of us can do about the Sorting, Severus," Albus said as they sat down. "I think Miss Black will surprise us all, however."

Severus didn't think he wanted to know what that meant, but he poured some mead for them both anyway, as they began to discuss possible disciplinary measures available to him for a colleague's child.

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Cora Prewett read the paper every morning, but she knew something was off when her father didn't put it out for her that morning. She asked Rhea if she'd seen it, but Rhea said she hadn't seen one all morning.

Whatever their mother was up to, Cora was convinced there was something about it in the paper and she knew what she had to do.

Cora knew that as far as favorites were concerned, she had the hardest time of things. Rhea was their father's favorite, Damon was their mother's favorite, and Ourania was Uncle Arthur's favorite. But Cora, Cora was Uncle Gideon's favorite. They didn't see as much of him, but she knew without a doubt that she would always get what she wanted out of him, if she made certain to ask him when they were alone.

To her benefit, her father made the mistake of having Uncle Gideon watch them while her parents were at work, because the Weasleys were still staying at Selwyn Manor. Uncle Gideon greeted them all and brought sweets for all the children. He paid special attention to Rhea, as he had yet to see her wand, and when Ourania dragged Damon out to play in the yard and Rhea retreated to her room to read something she'd likely already read three times, Cora cornered her uncle, who seemed to be expecting her.

"Go ahead and have a seat, lovely," he said, smoothing her hair as she approached him, sitting beside him at the kitchen table. "You're practically a lady now, bigger and more beautiful every time I see you."

Cora was the child forgotten. She wasn't a twin. She wasn't the oldest. She wasn't much different from Rhea, even in her own eyes, but Uncle Gideon never forgot her. When everyone else was watching Ourania be crazy or lamenting that poor Damon didn't have any brothers, or making a big deal out of how brilliant Rhea was, Uncle Gideon was finding something to play with Cora in the corner, listening to whatever she wanted to tell him, making her feel special when she didn't feel fully opaque to the rest of the room.

She took his hand and said, "Why didn't you ever marry?"

He smiled sadly, his eyes far away, seeming to think back to something years before she existed, and his kind eyes were so full of loss. Cora hated making him feel pain, but she asked him sometimes because she thought his eyes were so beautiful when he got that look.

"Someday," he said, as he always did. "Someday I'll tell you. You've got something else on your mind, my little butterfly."

"Daddy didn't have the paper out for me this morning," she said, looking at his fingers a she pulled them apart and pressed them together. He had stocky, substantial fingers that she found aesthetically compelling. "Is everything okay?"

He hesitated, which meant he was trying to decide how much to say to her. He hummed lightly for a moment before he said, "Lovely, do you trust me?"

Cora frowned. There was something in his voice that she'd never heard before, and she looked up at his eyes to see that they were strange, wild, and…afraid.

Her chest tightened and she nodded slowly. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging horribly.

"I promise that if something bad is going to happen, I will tell you, okay?" he said. "I won't necessarily tell you what, but I will let you know if you have any reason to worry, and I promise you, lovely, that I will never let anything bad happen to you. Not to any of you. Okay?"

Cora nodded again, but she couldn't hold in her tears. She could feel his fears, although she didn't know them or understand them, and he pulled her into his arms as he hadn't since she was a small child, and he held her tightly against his chest as she shook with terror that only the vivid imagination of a child could produce.

He whispered words of comfort and smoothed her hair, and repeated his promises, but she knew that something had him worried, and nothing ever scared Uncle Gideon. He was the bravest man she knew. If he could be afraid of something, how could she not be?

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While the rest of the world was worrying at Dorcas Prewett, her legal attack on Gilderoy Lockhart, and whether she had perhaps lost her mind, Dorcas was busy worrying about her eldest daughter, who was leaving in very short order for Hogwarts. Particularly knowing that Fabian would have such a hard time driving Rhea to catch her train, letting her go, Dorcas tried to think of ways to make it easier on everyone. She wanted to give Fabian as much time alone with his favorite as possible before sending her off into the world. Things would be hard enough on him when she was gone.

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The Lovegood home was relishing the news that Dorcas Prewett was taking on Gilderoy Lockhart for fraud. Luna happened to be particularly interested in the inaccuracy of the man's books, and had read all of them, marking them up extensively. She wondered if such research would be useful to Madam Prewett, and she pondered sending them to the Ministry for use in the investigation.

It was likely that Madam Prewett had already done a similar search, but any little thing to add might help.

"I only hope that his lies will be put to rest," Luna said, explaining her dilemma to her father, who was pondering the same question for her.

"Well, the Ministry does take its time about things," her father warned. "Dorcas does move things through more quickly than the average employee of our government, but it will take her quite some time for something this big. We need to be patient."

Luna hummed her understanding through a spoonful of muesli. She supposed she ought to send the books along. It might slow matters, but if the end result was positive, a little extra time was worth it.

"Dad, I think I want to send a package."

"That's a very large package," he said, not as a caution or as anything other than stating that the package would be quite large.

"I have been saving up my pocket money," she said, dismissing the concerns. "This seems a worthy cause to put it to."

Her father nodded and said nothing, but she knew he was proud of her without his saying. He always was.

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Delia smoothed Adrasteia's locks and listened as her daughter talked about all the things she was pretending to be nervous about so she didn't have to speak about what was really troubling her, which Delia suspected had something to do with Sorting. It could be one of two things. It could be about Adrasteia being afraid that she wouldn't be Sorted into Slytherin, or it could be about being afraid that she and Catherine wouldn't be Sorted together.

While Rabastan and Delia hadn't said anything about where they wanted their children to go, but both would certainly be shocked if any of their children ended up somewhere other than Slytherin. Delia supposed she could forgive Ravenclaw, but anything else would be quite unacceptable to her side of the family.

"I'm sure you'll be allowed to bring your own pillowcases, darling," Delia said, knowing that Albus Dumbledore really wouldn't care one way or another about the pillowcases. "Got to keep your hair shiny, after all."

This seemed to slightly quiet her daughter, but Delia could tell that Adrasteia was still tense, and but Delia knew that some childhood anxieties could only be cured with time. Of course, Delia thought, rubbing her hand on her thigh where scars still existed from her own anxieties, her own childhood problems.

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Luna carefully packaged the books and addressed them to Dorcas Prewett of the Ministry of Magic, London, and she asked her father if he would able to take some time to run her by the post office later that evening. He said he would, and asked if she wanted any prune juice.

Luna said she didn't like prune juice. She always said this, but her father was always forgetting. Or perhaps he really wanted her to like prune juice. Her mother had liked prune juice.

She finished putting spellotape on the packaging and went down for tea.

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Dean took one of the sandwiches his mother had put out on the plate and was about to go back outside when his father said, "Dean, are you ever going to start packing?"

"There's ages left," he said, about to take a bite when he stopped from his father's stern look. He turned to thank his mother, and she said something about how it was really nothing, and then he turned back to his father. "Can't I start tomorrow?"

"A little bit every day makes the tasks easier," his mother said in a soft voice in the corner.

Dean didn't like that voice. It made Dean think of things they wouldn't tell him, conversations they whispered when they thought he wasn't going to hear them. Usually about the past, about the war. Every time Dean asked questions, his parents told him some other time, but he supposed he'd get his answers when they got to that part of History of Magic.

"Sure, Mum," Dead said, eating his sandwich quickly and hurrying upstairs. If he tossed in a couple of things a day, maybe it would keep them happy.

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Luna watched the bird leave, heavy laden, and she wondered what Madam Prewett would make of all the material. Naturally she had quite a bit of material of her from the prior investigation, but Luna suspected that the information would be well-received, just the same. She had a good, strong feeling about it, like the feeling she had that cheese didn't go well with curry powder.

She took her father's arm and ignored the slightly unpleasant twinges of Side-Along Apparition. When they landed in their front yard, Luna thanked her father, kissed his cheek, and walked into the house on her own two feet.

She wondered, not for the first time in recent weeks, what would become of her father when she went away to school. Of course, he would keep on with the paper and living his life and the like, but it would be difficult, she imagined, for him to find a lot of meaning in that life without her there. So many things he would forget to do, so many things she couldn't do for him to make his burden a little bit easier.

That was the hardest thing about losing her mother. They missed her terribly, of course, but the hardest thing was that there wasn't much that she could do to fill the gap her mother left behind in their lives, to make her father's life quite a bit easier. But she had to leave eventually.

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Ron watched Catherine Black play George at chess, watched her sly smile, perhaps because she realized that George didn't have a clue he was losing. He didn't seem to have any interest in the game, too focused on the changes in her face when he took a piece. Ron was watching the changes, too, and he wondered if she would enjoy herself more with someone who could give her a proper match.

Of course, Ron hadn't offered, partially because he found it difficult to say things to her, and partially because he was worried that he would have some of the same difficulties that George was having, because even though George had more pieces on the board, Catherine was winning handily.

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Rhea watched her sister, Cora, after dinner with careful eyes. Although Cora was unaware, Rhea knew perfectly well that Cora was concerned extensively about their mother, and given her increasingly sullen countenance, whatever Uncle Gideon had said to her had done nothing to assuage her fears.

Although Rhea was exceedingly excited to be going off to school, she was nervous for her sister, who was a gentle soul with a vivid imagination. Rhea was concerned with whatever was going on with their mother, but she had a feeling that whatever it was would turn out right. She understood in a way that Cora didn't seem to that their mother had powerful friends, old friends from the war and new ones from the Ministry.

Ourania and Damon didn't seem touched by the matter, although surely the knew something was wrong. Perhaps they were too young, or perhaps they didn't notice anything as yet, but she wondered how things would be when she was gone. She wondered how her father would cope with the stress without being able to tell her nothing was wrong, as he loved to do when things were upsetting him. She wondered who would temper Cora's imagination, or give Damon an excuse not to go running about the yard for the millionth time because he was tired and didn't have his twin's energy.

She wondered very much what their lives would be like while she was gone, and how often they would think of her, and she wondered if this was what it was to be afraid of leaving, if only until Christmastime.

"D'you want some tea, Cora?" she asked her sister in a soft voice, a soothing voice she used when her siblings were ill.

Cora hummed an affirmative response and Rhea brought in the cup she'd prepared for herself. She could always make another, she told herself, and in spite of her fears, Cora almost certainly needed the tea more than Rhea did.

"D'you think you could help me tomorrow?" she asked, smoothing a bit of ginger hair out of her sister's ashen face. "I need help deciding which books to bring with me and I'd really appreciate your input."

Rhea already knew which books Cora would recommend, and she already knew which she wanted to bring, but it would give Cora something to do outside of her own mind.

"Sure," Cora said, feigning a smile. "We can start after breakfast."

The two sisters bid each other goodnight, and Rhea wished there was something more she could do to put Cora's mind at ease, but she was only eleven, and there were only so many things open to her.

 **A/N: *clears throat* So I took violently ill with a stomach bug the end of my work day Friday. I have been unable to accomplish much of anything since then (including my regular Saturday update). I've had a bit of a relapse today, so I'm home from work, but after rest, I'm restless enough to make it up to y'all.**

 **You'll be getting a second update as an apology shortly.**

 **Review Prompt: Thoughts on Luna? In so many ways, she's the most difficult to write.**

 **-C**


	21. Letting Go

As the one who was usually among the first to rise, Jason was the first one up when the morning of September the first came along. He helped the adults and the elf get breakfast all ready for those going away, particularly Catherine and Ginny, who would be leaving for their first year.

He couldn't say he wasn't jealous, or that he wouldn't miss his elder sister, but it would be interesting to see how life would change while she was gone, to see if he and Caroline could get more time with their mother, perhaps, or become all the better at various games for her absence. Perhaps they would spend more time with their cousins. He wouldn't mind a bit of time with Brontes, although if Caroline and Aeson had more time to squabble, they might kill each other.

"Mum," he said as his mother was laying out the tea, "d'you think maybe we could do something when Kitty leaves?"

"How do you mean, love?" she asked.

"Like, go somewhere for a little while," he said, shrugging. "You and me and Caro. Maybe spend some time up north, or by the coast. Maybe France?"

She gave him a sad smile and said, "We'll talk about it when she's gone, Jason. Go ahead and wake up your sisters, alright?"

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All through breakfast, Ginny's hands were shaking, but her brothers were too busy talking about plans to notice. Catherine, though, Catherine noticed. She gave Ginny a knowing look, and quirked an eyebrow slightly in a way that gave Ginny a slight chill. She looked down at her plate and decided that it was probably a nice thing that Catherine was saying nothing.

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Luna gratefully ate the breakfast her father had so lovingly laid out for her, even though it wasn't particularly good. At least it was warm.

"I've got you something," he said as she poured herself some more tea. "It's not much, but I thought you might like it."

"Yes?"

He pulled a small box out from under the table, and she smiled. She didn't think the old traditions of gift-giving on certain occasions such as entering school were especially important, but she knew that they mattered to her father, still something that he couldn't get over no matter how difficult it was to fund their lives when the papers were their only real source of income anymore, and he really should haven't gotten her anything extra.

Luna opened the box to find a small and – thankfully – cheap old locket, something probably from about the time she was conceived, she supposed. Inside was a lock of her mother's hair, and a picture of her parents holding her as a baby. Luna wondered if he'd bought the locket recently at a secondhand shop, or if he'd had it some time, but she decided not to ask.

"Train leaves at exactly eleven," he said, smiling. "Are your things all packed, my love?"

"Yes," she said. "Just have to be sure to take my coat, but everything else is in good order. Can we just leave when I have my coat? I'd like to meet new people as soon as possible. Good to get new friends soon. To help settle in, you know."

"Of course, love," he said, smiling at her. "Whenever you'd like."

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All the families loaded up in their various cars, although it was a bit odd to Jason, sitting in the family car. His father rarely drove and his mother never did, but it was a special occasion, taking Catherine to school.

The drive from Selwyn Manor to King's Cross was not a short one, but it was a surprisingly quiet one. Both of Jason's sisters were terribly silent, which was almost miraculous of itself, but his father was also eerily quiet, which was something Jason only recalled happening once.

When Jason was about five, Catherine became very ill one winter. Although he didn't really have the time, their father came home every night after classes, and left every morning just after breakfast. He sat at Catherine's bedside and brought her potions and sweets and everything he thought might make her feel better. Jason knew it was probably when he'd first gotten the notion that Catherine was their father's favorite. He knew now that she'd been terribly ill and their father was afraid of losing her, but at the time all he understood was that his father was spending every waking hour – and many non-waking ones – at his sister's bed and hardly sparing Jason a glance.

He hadn't thought of that time consciously in years, but it was all he could think about the whole ride to the train station, and he felt terribly guilty for reasons he couldn't understand. Sometimes Jason would glance up at his father and catch him looking at Catherine in the rearview mirror with the oddest expression, and Jason just felt melancholy.

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Caroline was the first out of the family car in the car park, and she watched her father load up Catherine's things. The Potters had already arrived and were loading up Harry's trunk on a cart, and the Longbottoms and Weasleys were just pulling in.

"Daddy," Catherine said, "will you push my cart through for me? I'm worried it'll get out of control."

Caroline smirked to Jason, who raised his eyebrows slightly before looking down at his feet.

"Of course, Kitty-Cat," their father said, kissing her cheek.

They greeted their friends and Caroline noticed that Ginny was pushing her own cart, as were Harry and Ron and Neville and all the other Weasleys. But that was Catherine, always finding a way for things to be done by their father whenever he was around. Caroline had to admit that their father always looked so pleased to do it.

The Muggles were boring, as usual, but they only vaguely glanced at the owls some of the children had, like the eldest Weasley and Harry. Caroline supposed that people who sent mail by inefficient postmen might find it very strange to see children going on a train with owls, and Caroline found that attitude very hilarious.

She took her mother's hand since her father was busy pushing Catherine's trolley, and she watched the Muggles they passed on the way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

The Weasleys went through first, as many of them as there were, and then the Potters. The Longbottoms nodded to Caroline's father, then, motioning that they should go through, and Caroline gripped her mother's hand tighter. She rarely walked through to the other side of the platform, but she knew they were going to, to say goodbye to Catherine.

Three long years, she thought bitterly as she and her mother walked calmly through what looked like a solid brick wall.

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Draco stood on the platform with his mother when the Blacks came onto the platform shortly after the Potters. He watched Sirius pushing Catherine's cart, and he heard his mother say something about how Catherine had grown.

She had, as it happened, but Draco had a feeling that he would see very little of her over the course of the year. He wondered how the Lestranges would take it if the Blacks were Sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin.

"Sirius!" his mother said, crossing to him, although Draco stood rooted to the spot. "Sirius, here you are. Oh, Catherine, look at you!"

And Draco did look at her again, in her pale blue dress and jumper, and he wondered if this was what her mother looked like at eleven. He imagined it was something close.

"Daddy," Catherine said, "I want to go with Ginny onto the train. She's found Rhea, look."

The unfamiliar name jerked Draco out of his reverie, and he looked to where she pointed to see Rhea Prewett standing with a pretty red-haired girl who must have been another Weasley.

There went another acquaintance to the dogs, he thought, frowning, thinking what a shame it was.

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Lily watched her son get on the train again, and she saw Sirius rub at his face out of the corner of her eye. She knew James's policy of ignoring Sirius's emotions, especially in public, but she crossed to him and put her hand gently on his arm. She knew he was watching Catherine thank the Weasley twins for carrying her trunk, that he was watching her and Ginny and Rhea meet a new friend, who looked very much like someone Lily once knew.

"It's lucky for you, really," Lily said softly. Sirius made an inquisitive humming sound and she said, "You get to see Kitty every day at meals, see that she's well and happy, know when she's in trouble. With Harry, James and I have just had to wait for news and letters, and you know how boys are with writing."

She glanced up to see Sirius's lips twitch at the joke. After all, James had written her unsolicited probably thousands of times while they were in school.

"I suppose it'll be harder for Cat," he said, frowning.

"Nonsense," Lily said, leaning her head on Sirius's shoulder. "It'll be terrible for you both."

Which was a bit of a lie, she knew. Sirius was absolutely not ready for his daughter to grow up, and it would be dreadful for him, but she wouldn't dare say so to his face.

"Lily, have you heard from Fabian lately?" he asked, glancing over at the Prewetts, who were waving at Rhea from the platform.

That tone was a little too casual.

"Should I have done?"

Sirius said nothing, just gave her a weak smile, and that was when Lily knew that something was terribly not right. She glanced over at the Prewetts again.

"Sirius, does this have something to do with what Dorcas is doing with that…excuse for an author?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said stiffly, shaking his head sharply.

Lily had the sense from that emphatic gesture that he knew as much as she did, and that he had been hoping she knew something more. Looking back at Dorcas and Fabian again, Lily had a chilling sensation, recalling with perfect clarity how she had met them on her first day in the Order, meeting everyone, seeing their various states of hardness, and noticing how adoringly Fabian looked at Dorcas when she wasn't looking.

At the time, Lily thought it was sweet, and she thought it sweet today, but for a time when things grew so terrible just before the end, with Peter and Caradoc and Sirius's mess, she had felt for Fabian. It seemed his heart was being ripped from him, and he was totally helpless, living in constant fear that Dorcas would die.

"No heavy secrets, Sirius," Lily whispered in his ear, pretending to kiss his cheek. "Think of your wife and think of your children. And if Fabian tries to pull you in, remind him of his own wife and children. I find it shocking that he could forget."

A small shiver passed over Sirius's eyes and Lily let go of his arm with a calm smile, walking back to her husband, who was chatting merrily with Arthur Weasley.

Emptiness. That was the shiver, that was that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that she'd prayed she would never have to feel again. The war was over, and so should all these things, but she had a terrible feeling that she understood what Dorcas was up to. Men like Gilderoy Lockhart were dangerous to what they had built, to people like Remus and Arabella Figg, and even Cara, who were different to no fault of their own. And that was the sort of thing that Dorcas cared about deeply, but it was also the kind of thing that could cause a lot of trouble for very powerful people. Sirius could fight them, but at what cost to his family?

At what cost to his children?

/-/

Hermione was looking for Neville, Harry, and Ron, when she opened a compartment near the back. Inside were four girls, first years by the look at them, who looked up at her with very different expressions. One blonde girl by the window was eyeing Hermione with mild interest. Of the two red-haired girls one was quiet and passive, the other with a laugh still at her cheeks and eyes from whatever had been said just before Hermione looked in on them. The brunette by the window on the other side of the compartment, however, reminded Hermione of something unsavory about the pureblood community as she had seen it. The girl had soft brown eyes, very kind, sharply intelligent, but her brows and lips were arranged in haughty self-importance that Hermione supposed she'd been taught or had modeled for her from an early age, like with Draco Malfoy.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I was looking for some friends. Have a pleasant ride."

The girls said nothing, and Hermione went to the next compartment relieved to see the boys inside, already eating sweets.

"Took you long enough," Harry said, motioning for her to sit down. "Hey, did you look in on the girls next door? Is Kitty okay?"

So the famous Kitty was one of the girls, and one of the red-haired girls must have been Ron's sister.

"Which one is she?" Hermione asked, accepting a chocolate bar from Neville.

Ron glanced out onto the platform and said, "She's got long brown hair, and warm brown eyes, and skin like milk."

Harry choked on his chocolate, amused, and Hermione realized this must be the haughty girl, and Ron must be smitten with her. Hermione didn't know why, but this was extremely disagreeable to her, but she said, "She was fine, I suppose. Seemed happy enough."

/-/

As the train pulled out of the station, Sirius felt bittersweet, felt like he was drowning and breathless, and yet also felt so proud of his daughter. Yes, all she had done was survive to the age of eleven, but sometimes Sirius had wondered if that would ever happen, the trouble she liked to get herself into. And she'd grown up so fast, and so beautiful, and so intelligent, and so kind.

But she had grown up, and he still wanted her to be the tiny baby he'd been able to hold in one hand, or the adoring toddler with wide gray eyes and chubby fingers clinging to whatever part of him he presented to her reach. He wanted to carry her and hold her and tuck her into bed every night of his life.

Yes, he would see her at school, as Lily said, but it wasn't the same. He would be her teacher, not her father, in class and in the corridors, or he would be seen to show her special treatment, and that wouldn't do her any favors with her peers.

Caroline slipped her hand in his and said, "Daddy, will you have lunch with us before you go?"

The end of the train was out of sight, and his little girl was on her way to Hogwarts, and Sirius blinked the blurriness out of his eyes. He looked down at his other beautiful little girl and said, "Of course, Caro. How about cheeseburgers, then?"

He was only teasing her. Caroline detested cheeseburgers, and her little nose wrinkled in disgust at the suggestion. Jason suggested they get Indian food, which Caroline seconded, and Sirius knew that it was always going to be curry, anyway. He led his children and wife back out into the Muggle part of the station, told Lily and James they were off for a curry, but Lily had to go to work and James had promised to check in on Remus before he left for the school, so it was just the Blacks.

The Blacks minus Catherine, Sirius thought glumly as he sat down in the buffet restaurant with his family, telling Jason that he had to help his sister get her food so she didn't make a mess. Caroline resented the insinuation, but she didn't argue. Perhaps she could see how difficult the day was for her father, and how hard he was taking Catherine's absence.

Cara slipped her hand into Sirius's when the children hurried to the buffet to see what their choices were, and she said, "She's desperate for you to be proud of her, you know."

Sirius nodded numbly. Cara didn't understand. When Catherine went to school, her world would expand, and when she graduated, it would expand again. The more her world expanded, the more dangers there were. He could still recall so clearly feeling the lifting of the Cruciatus Curse as his saw his wife drive a sword through his torturer. He remembered Peter's betrayal and cremating his brother and killing his friend. Even the memory of Cara's screams of pain in labor, although not as anguished as Narcissa's, was a terrible thing still seared on his mind. Even the good things in Catherine's life would bring pain, and he couldn't stand the thought of her being in pain he couldn't alleviate or end.

"I am always proud of her," he said, earnestly, looking at his wife's eyes. "I'm proud of all of them."

Cara kissed his hand, first at the knuckles, then flattening his hand and kissing his fingertips.

"I'll miss you both terribly," she said, smiling at him sadly. "And I imagine Jason and Caro will be twice the trouble with their sister gone." He snorted, glancing at their children, who were piling naan on a plate. "Write to me every day, will you?"

"The poor owls," he teased.

"Every week then," she said, sighing. "I want you to tell me how she's really doing. You know she'll have too much pride to tell me the bad things."

"Of course, darling."

It wasn't pride, Sirius knew. With Caroline, it would be pride, but for Catherine and Jason they were like Sirius in that way. They never wanted to hurt their mother, and so they never wanted her to see the things that weren't quite right. Catherine didn't have Jason's sensitivity, so she masked it as pride and boredom.

Just like her father.

 **A/N: Here's my "I'm sorry" post. I might post more throughout the day, since I'm sitting on a sofa without much else to do. And Kitty's almost at Hogwarts, GUYS! :D Super excited to start showing the dynamic between Kitty's clique and Harry's clique. I've pre-written another hundred chapters, so review if you want them. ;)**

 **Review Prompt: Last chance for bets… where's Catherine getting Sorted? Also, if you think she's not a Slytherin, how will that change things with Adrasteia?**

 **-C**


	22. Getting There

They were scarcely out of London before Catherine decided that she liked her new friends very much. They had only just started seeing farmland out of the window when she realized she hadn't bothered looking for Adrasteia.

And the worst part was, she couldn't be bothered to leave her friends to find Adrasteia, and Catherine realized she was thinking of her cousin more as family than as a friend she particularly wanted to see. She supposed that if they were Sorted together, they would spend a fair amount of time together, but if not, they may not see much of each other at all.

While the thought might have given her some distress when she was younger, it didn't trouble her at all, sitting with Ginny and Luna and Rhea, who were telling stories about their summers.

"So, Luna," Catherine asked the very interesting girl, "what do your parents do?"

"My father runs _The Quibbler_ ," Luna said dreamily. "My mother is dead."

Catherine choked slightly.

"I'm so terribly sorry," she said, thinking perhaps it was something painful, but she realized Luna's expression hadn't changed at all.

"Oh, don't be," she said, smiling. "It's a sad thing, but you didn't know."

Catherine wasn't sure she knew what _The Quibbler_ was, either, but given the look of amusement Rhea and Ginny shared, it was something interesting to Catherine, who resolved to ask her father about it later.

"My dad works at the Ministry," Ginny said to get the conversation back on track. "Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"How very interesting," Luna said earnestly.

"He's a bit Muggle mad."

"I can see how he would be," Luna said, glancing out the window. "They're very industrious. Remarkable, the things they've accomplished without magic. Like airplanes. Remarkable."

Catherine thought it was funny, the way Luna said something so matter-of-fact where Mr. Weasley had said the same thing with such vigorous passion.

"Rhea?" Ginny prompted.

Rhea gave a small smile and said, "My parents both work at the Ministry. My mum's an expert with legal concerns for magical creatures, and my dad's an Auror."

"That's quite difficult," Luna said. "He must be very intelligent."

Rhea shrugged, her neck going slightly pink in somewhat unattractive splotches.

"My daddy is a teacher at Hogwarts, actually," Catherine said proudly. "History of Magic. Everybody has to take it. Harry says he's the best teacher at the school."

"He has to say that to you," Ginny teased. "He's not going to tell you your dad's awful. No, I expect he's brilliant, though. He makes every story fascinating."

Catherine tilted up her head with pride at the compliment, rubbing her hands on her thighs to keep from letting them get too slick with sweat. She wasn't nervous, exactly, but excited anxiousness, perhaps, was the best way to describe her state of mind. Either way, she was sweating like a pig.

"I've got some Bertie Bott's," Rhea said, perhaps seeing Catherine's gesture of anxiety, and she pulled the box out of her book bag. "Shall we?"

All four girls moved closer to take dares on eating certain beans, encouraging each other to try the ones that looked dodgier, Luna and Ginny always being the bravest. Catherine wasn't afraid of the beans, she just didn't like to guess wrong, so she tried to stick to the ones she was pretty sure what they were. Rhea was a bit of a chicken, but Catherine tried not to judge her for it. She was a quiet soul, and Catherine supposed there had to be a few of those in the world.

/-/

Colin Creevey was quite certain that no one was more nervous than him about going to Hogwarts. He sat on the train by himself in a group of older students who hadn't seemed worried about his presence, and he tried not to seem intrusive as one of the three boys was showing the other two boys and two girls a spider he'd found over holiday and all but made his pet.

Colin tried to hide in his books, not because he hadn't read them over the holidays, and not because he was especially anxious about making a good impression in his classes – although, he certainly was – but rather because he felt very strongly that he needed to do something with himself that didn't involve listening in on the other students' conversation, or making them feel obligated to entertain him.

Being a Muggle made it difficult, because Colin's parents were unable to tell him what to expect at this new magical school, and he had no friends coming in like some of the other students he had seen on the platform. He supposed he would make friends, but he had such a hard time making friends in primary school and he worried that it would be even more difficult in this new place where he didn't understand the culture yet.

At least he had brought his camera. He could send pictures back to his parents and brother, and write to them frequently. That would be something to do, even if he didn't make many friends.

/-/

As the girls grew more comfortable with each other, they began to talk Quidditch. Catherine learned that Ginny and Rhea agreed with her about the Harpies (although she suspected had already had a few conversations with her about this before), and both girls thought it would be brilliant to play for the all-female team. Catherine loved watching Quidditch and playing with friends, but she had no interest in a professional career. The idea of playing against people who were also excellent at the things she was excellent at sounded like far too much work.

Luna, on the other hand, had very little knowledge or interest in professional Quidditch. She understood the game, and she thought her father might support the Cannons, but she'd never given a lot of consideration to her own loyalties.

So the other three girls spent an hour and a half explaining to Luna why it was critical for her to become a Harpies fan, and how it would enrich her life, and their friendship.

It was not lost on Catherine that she could not have such conversations with Adrasteia, who cared not at all about Quidditch, and grew sullen and bored whenever Catherine and Caroline brought it up, but she didn't spare the consideration much thought.

/-/

"What's that?" Fabian asked, frowning, standing over Dorcas. "Are those more investigative files?"

"Someone is feeding Lockhart information inside the Ministry," Dorcas said, not looking up at her anxious husband. "Somebody who knows just where to look for the right kind of stories and myths, to find the people who really did these things, and I'm going to find out who it is."

Dorcas knew he was looking at the names on the files and panicking. The things she was looking into was at the highest level, crossing the desk of Cornelius Fudge himself. How could she watch her back when she was fighting proverbial dragons?

To Dorcas, that didn't matter. What mattered was protecting the truth and protecting the innocent, and the best way to be certain that once she took down Lockhart another wouldn't just rise up in his place was to eliminate the network supporting him. And what she knew from the war was that the only way to eliminate such a powerful, highly-placed network was to cut it off from the head.

And she had a feeling, from reading these files, that the head in question wore a hideous pink bow.

/-/

Catherine knew they would get around eventually to Sorting, but she was hoping it would take longer. She supposed it was getting into the late afternoon, and Luna mentioned Sorting first.

"My whole family has been in Gryffindor for ages," Ginny said dismissively, flicking a bit of a wrapper off her jeans. "So I suppose I'll be in Gryffindor."

"That's the way my family is in Ravenclaw," Luna said, smiling. "I think I would like being in Ravenclaw. But I don't think I would really mind any of them."

Rhea and Catherine exchanged glances, because they knew their situations were more complex. Rhea's father was a Gryffindor, her mother a Hufflepuff. And both of Catherine's parents came from very long lines of Slytherins – like Adrasteia – but her father was in Gryffindor and her mother never went to Hogwarts. Harry was a Gryffindor, and all of his friends were in Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor might be fun," Catherine said, shrugging. "Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad."

Secretly, Catherine thought Ravenclaw would be awful. She enjoyed reading, but not like Rhea did, and she was certainly more of a do-er. She wanted to have action and excitement in her life.

But thoughts of Sorting forced Catherine to think about Adrasteia, because what if she was put in Slytherin with Adrasteia and Draco, and everyone else she cared about was in Gryffindor? Or what if she was put in Gryffindor instead? How would she be able to be friends with Adrasteia?

The more she thought about it, the more Catherine realized how Sorting could define how her friendships would develop over the years, and maybe how her life would develop. She thought over the teachers in charge of the various houses. In many ways Slytherin would be ideal. She would be with her cousins, and she would have Professor Snape as her Head of House. Professor McGonagall had lots of positive qualities, but wasn't as frequent of a visitor to the Black properties for holidays or meetings with Catherine's father.

"Dad said Sorting is actually really simple," Rhea said softly. "He said all we have to do is put on a hat."

Her ears turned slightly red, and Catherine said, "A hat? Seriously? Are you sure he wasn't pulling your leg when he said it?"

"I'm not sure," Rhea admitted with a shrug, "but he did seem sort of earnest when he said it. So maybe it's true."

/-/

Narcissa sat down at her vanity again, staring at her face and wondering when she had aged so many years. She rarely thought about how she looked, but with Draco certain to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team she would be expected to go to the matches. At events she could dress up and was expected to do herself up in a certain way, but for a match there was all kinds of weather she would have to be prepared for, and she had to consider how she would look in all sorts of light.

Not promising.

She turned over the newspaper she had been considering, with the information on Dorcas Prewett's crusade against that silly author, Gilderoy Lockhart. Lucius had been furious, as Lockhart's agenda had been something he considered as a way back into the old status quo. He'd even suggested Narcissa try to "talk sense" into Dorcas, which Narcissa had flatly refused to do. No, her days of tampering in politics were long over, she told herself, and she hoped with all her heart that Sirius wasn't being drawn into the matter, for the sake of his wife and children. It wouldn't be good for him, for his health, to be back in their world that deep again.

Perhaps she would drop by Grimmauld Place for tea, she mused, when she could have a word about Sirius's behavior with Cara. Perhaps they could save him from his obligation to help his friends at all times.

/-/

They'd gotten well and truly to the wilds when Catherine said, softly, to Luna while Ginny and Rhea were busying themselves, pulling on their robes, "I don't know where I want to be Sorted, if I'm honest. I want to be with friends."

"Are we your friends?" Luna asked, as though this were a perfectly natural question to ask someone you'd just spent hours gossiping with and sharing sweets with.

"I'd like to think so. I also have friends who are already in Gryffindor and Slytherin, though. What if you're all in Gryffindor and I end up in Slytherin?"

Luna seemed to find something about this question puzzling, her placid face twitching into a confused expression before smoothing out again. She lifted one of her pale eyebrows and said, "I would still want to be your friend, Catherine, whatever House you're Sorted into. Would you be upset with me for being Sorted into Gryffindor?"

"Hardly," Catherine said quickly, feeling a flood of relief rush through her. "And you should call me Kitty. All my friends do."

"That's lovely," Luna said. "It sounds very much like you, bubbly and kind."

Catherine never would have used those words to describe herself, but she supposed there were far worse ways to be described. It occurred to her that she far preferred this description to the one Harry used about Adrasteia. Bubbly and kind was closer to the Weasley twins, someone personable and agreeable and thoughtful.

Like a cross between her parents, Catherine thought, smiling to herself as she pulled her robes out of her trunk to put on.

"Daddy says finding the right friends in school is very important," she said, pulling on her robes. "He met his best friends the very first day, and they were best friends forever. All three of them are still best friends."

"Are we best friends?" Rhea asked, her smile more eager and interested than Catherine had ever seen. This was a good start.

"Definitely," Ginny said, sitting back down, glancing out at the quickly-darkening sky flying by outside the train. "We should get tattoos or something."

"Friendship tattoos?" Luna said, pulling on her own robes slowly. "That could be interesting. I know a book that could be adapted to tattoos."

Catherine wasn't ready to permanently mark her body. Not that she didn't feel old enough at eleven – after all, she was old enough to have a wand, she was totally old enough for a tattoo – but she had a horrible feeling that she wouldn't be able to hide it from her father, and she didn't want him to disapprove of it.

"Let's hold off on tattoos for a bit, okay?" she said. "Small steps. Good cliques have names, right? Nicknames. Rituals. Rules. Baselines must be established before we do things that can't be undone."

Luna shrugged and Ginny gave a disappointed but assenting grunt. Rhea seemed slightly relieved, and Catherine knew that when it finally was time to take the step of tattoos – because she wasn't letting that idea pass, and they would have them before they graduated – Rhea would be the one who required coaxing, for sure.

"We also need to think about a meeting place," Catherine said, sitting forward. "Just in case we don't all get Sorted together. We need to be able to meet discretely, even if we can't meet in our bedroom."

"I'll ask Fred and George for ideas," Ginny said, smirking. "Kitty, you should come with me when I do. I suspect George would trip over his own tongue trying to tell you whatever you wanted to know."

Catherine really didn't know what all this was about, Ginny's constant teasing that George was eager to please her. He seemed friendly, perhaps especially friendly, but she supposed that was just the way he was. She saw absolutely no reason for George to pay her any special attention. She decided that the best method was the one she had been employing throughout the month of August – ignoring the suggestions to keep from getting into a stupid argument over something that couldn't possibly be based in any kind of fact.

"I think we must be nearly there," Luna said, clearing Catherine of thinking quickly of a change of conversation. "Can you feel the train slowing?"

Indeed, it was beginning to slow, which meant the Hogsmeade Station must be nearby. Harry said the first year students were taken to the castle in a fleet of rowboats that had no oars, crossing the Black Lake for a view of the castle, which gave the other students time to get to the school and be seated.

"Do we leave our things on the train?" Rhea said nervously.

"Yeah, they take it up," Catherine said, rubbing her hands on her legs. "Daddy said that they have it waiting for us in our rooms after the feast."

The girls did not have long to be anxious before the train did come to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, and they followed the flow of people out onto the platform, where the very large gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, was calling out for first year students to gather around him. The girls huddled together, and Catherine caught a glimpse of Adrasteia next to an unpleasant-looking boy, and she frowned slightly at the thought that they had experienced such separate journeys.

"Follow me!" Hagrid called, which the students did, to the fleet of little boats as described by Catherine's father. "No more 'n four t'a boat!"

The four girls got into the nearest boat, and this time Adrasteia caught Catherine's gaze, her cool silver eyes looking slightly surprised to see Catherine with three other girls, Rhea and two girls who were strangers to Adrasteia. Catherine saw no hurt there, only surprise, and it seemed that this was really something that bored Adrasteia more than anything.

Catherine saw her cousin turn her gaze away from the other boats as Hagrid tapped a pink umbrella onto the side of the boat he was in by himself, and the boats began to glide easily out onto the lake, toward the unknown that awaited them all in a castle on a hill overlooking the smooth black water. Catherine could fell her heartbeat in her throat, and she thought it felt uncomfortable and perfect all at once, like it was leading her forward on a leash toward her destiny, into the night, into the next chapter of her life. She closed her eyes and felt the exhilaration of moving into nothingness without any effort.

If only making her father proud of her beyond all previous measure would be so simple.

 **A/N: So… while my computer is still charged, before I have to plug it in again, I thought I'd update again. I don't like leaving y'all hanging on this set of chapters. Obviously the suspense is terrible.**

 **Review Prompt: What adult character – apart from Sirius – is your favorite at the moment? Slightly worried you'll all pick Sirius…**

 **-C**


	23. A Strange Sorting

Ginny stood with Luna, Catherine, and Rhea as the first years filed into the Great Hall, and she glanced at the Gryffindor table, a quick scan revealing where each of her brothers sat. Ron was with Harry and Neville, and a girl with bushy brown hair who was probably Hermione. Ginny thought she recognized her as the girl who opened their compartment door on the train, but it was a little difficult to say when she was finding it so hard to focus.

Amazingly, Rhea was correct. A hat was on a stool before them, and after it sang a song, they were informed that as their names were called, they would approach the hat and put it on their heads, and it would Sort them. It seemed far too simple, but Ginny supposed some things in life were bound to be simple.

Professor McGonagall, their stern-looking deputy headmistress, was holding a scroll and glancing down at it with her square spectacles balanced just below the bridge of her nose.

"Alderton, Horace!"

A small boy made his way forward, situated already quite close to the front of the group. Perhaps, with that surname, he was used to being called first and had prepared himself for an early calling. He sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall lowered the hat onto his head. It seemed to Ginny that in the several long moments of waiting, the whole of the Hall held its breath. Nothing special about this boy, of course, except that he was the first call of the year.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat called out, and the boy breathed a visible sigh of relief as cheers and applause erupted around him. He went toward the sound of the loudest cheering, settling at the end of the table, where the first years had space beside the Prefects, who would answer their questions during the meal.

Ginny only knew this because she could see Percy welcome the boy in his pompous way.

"Aymslowe, Carlisle!"

When this second boy walked forward, Ginny let her eyes wander the room, scanning the top table. She recognized Albus Dumbledore from her chocolate frog cards, and of course she recognized Professor Black from spending a month at his manor. He sat between two men of approximately his age, one with many scars and gray dusting his hair, the other with black hair and eyes and a hook nose, and the sallowest skin she'd ever seen. The first man had a kind face in spite of the scars, a friend who had briefly visited Selwyn Manor over the holiday, and he clapped vigorously when Aymslowe was also Sorted into Gryffindor. The other man was unreadable, and Ginny found that vaguely unnerving.

"Black, Catherine!"

Ginny watched her friend walk forward as if gliding across the stone floor, not at all bothered by the eyes of the whole school being on her. Professor Black sat forward, his eyes widening with anticipation, and the two men on either side of him sitting up a bit straighter. They must be friends of his, not merely colleagues. Ginny noticed Harry and Neville and Ron sit a bit straighter as well, and she didn't have to look to know that George was watching with particular interest.

She sat straight and proud on the stool, like someone had set a throne before her, and was about to place a crown on her head. Catherine's face was smooth and unreadable as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and Ginny rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet several times while waiting. It was possible, she realized, that Catherine could be Sorted into Slytherin, and what then? As much as she wanted to believe it wouldn't make a difference, Ginny knew it really would.

Finally, the hat's brim opened and it bellowed: "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Professor Black and his daughter both looked surprised, and they were far from the only ones, but Catherine seemed undeterred with this placement, gliding to the Hufflepuff table with the same grace and ease as had carried her up to the stool in the first place. Ginny applauded with the rest of the school, trying not to feel too relieved.

She could deal with Hufflepuff.

/-/

Standing in the queue of first years, Ryana Cotton felt she couldn't breathe. A very pretty girl had just been Sorted into Hufflepuff, and "Bloxam, Eileithiya!" had been called to the front.

What if Ryana couldn't be Sorted? What if she sat on the stool and they put the hat on her head and it said she wasn't actually strong enough of a witch, and that sorry, but she had to go home?

The thought made her slightly nauseous as the hat called out, once again, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bonham, Asher!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Braithwaite, Moira!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The applause was starting to become slightly less enthusiastic, and several students began whispering amongst themselves as "Brookstanton, Pippa!" was called forward.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

When Ryana saw several of the teachers frown at each other, she realized this wasn't normal, this string of a single house.

Perhaps the Hat was broken.

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Howard Harkiss was not the only one to notice that two strange things were happening with his year. Firstly, more than half a dozen students were Sorted already, and they'd just finished the b's. Secondly, only one of those had been Sorted somewhere other than Gryffindor.

"Carmichael, Kathleen!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The whispers were building, and he glanced up at the head table, where a dark-haired man had gotten out of his seat to whisper something to Professor Dumbledore, who shook his head and whispered something back. The man looked unconvinced, but he sat back down as "Cattermole, Juniper!" was also sorted into Gryffindor.

"Clearwater, Azura!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall looked around at Professor Dumbledore, who nodded her forward, and she cleared her throat.

"Cotton, Ryana!"

A slight blonde girl moved forward from the middle of the pack, and Howard thought she looked a bit queasy, and he was slightly ashamed to think that she was rather plain, almost the exact opposite from the pretty brunette who had been the only person not Sorted into Gryffindor, thus far.

The wait was longer, and Ryana Cotton looked to be holding her breath, but after a long wait, the Hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The whole Hall seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, and Ryana Cotton went to sit across from Catherine Black at the Hufflepuff table, where the girls greeted each other amicably.

/-/

Ron had never been so interested in something so routine. He wasn't even thinking of food, he was just wondering what the Hat was up to. A mousey-looking boy named Colin Creevey had just been Sorted into Gryffindor, and "Cresswell, Merideth!" had been called forward.

He glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where Catherine was sitting with the blonde girl who'd been Sorted with her. Seeing Catherine next to other girls made it so clear how special she was, how plain everyone else looked by comparison.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cuffe, Rosalyn!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

There were now four girls sitting together at the Hufflepuff table, each very different in size and shape and coloring, and it seemed to Ron that none of them compared in the slightest to Catherine.

"Dawlish, Thorley!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

People began exchanging nervous glances again, and Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, who was craning his neck for a better look at Professor Black, who had expressed some concern to Dumbledore. This was a very strange year, to be sure.

/-/

Neville felt the restlessness in the room as though it was crawling across his skin.

"Dobbs, Tatton!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Dorny, Delicia!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Edgecombe, Norm!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Elphick, Arden!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables were the most restless, and Neville didn't blame them. It had to be unnerving for about half the students to be Sorted and still have none in your house. It was also strange, to Neville, that about half the students had been Sorted and they were still only in the e's. This did not bother Professor Dumbledore, however, so Neville tried to ignore it.

"Farley, Brynn!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

At this, the Ravenclaw table exploded with support, and the Slytherins grew increasingly restless. Neville caught Catherine's eye, and she raised a questioning eyebrow. He shrugged at her. He had no explanations to offer.

"Flether, Cepheus!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Flume, Kipling!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Gibbon, Steven!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat across the way.

"Griffiths, Beryl!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Grunnion, Jeanne!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Gudgeon, Tamela!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Harkiss, Howard!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Harper, Rolland!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

At this, the whole Hall cheered, and Neville thought he'd never clapped so hard at the mention of Slytherin before in his life. Rolland Harper seemed surprised to be Sorted into Slytherin, but Neville really didn't care.

/-/

Luna glanced at Rhea and Ginny, who were still beside her. It was very interesting that so many students had already been Sorted. Luna had fully expected to be somewhere in the middle. She liked that she was not. She liked unexpected changes.

"Hilliard, Millard!" was Sorted into Slytherin, which continued what turned into a string of Slytherins.

"Hooper, Aveline!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Jigger, Isadora!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Jorkins, Deanna!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Ketteridge, Cori!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"LaFolle, Ezekiel!"

Luna perked up, knowing she would be Sorted soon.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Lestrange, Adrasteia!"

A very pretty girl with long, thick black hair walked forward with a way of carrying herself similar to Catherine's but without the same ease and a dash more boredom. Catherine's eyebrows raised, and Luna realized the girls knew each other.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Catherine nodded as she clapped. The girl seemed pleased, but she glanced over to where Catherine was sitting briefly before sitting down next to Cori Ketteridge with her chin almost comically high. Perhaps she felt some regret at their not being together.

/-/

Rhea held her breath as Professor McGonagall called out, "Lovegood, Luna!"

Luna did not hurry up to the stool, walking casually forward in spite of their only being a handful of students left to be Sorted and all the strangeness in the patterns. It occurred to Rhea that this might not seem odd to Luna at all, and perhaps she hadn't noticed that anything unusual was happening. Rhea wondered if anything ever seemed strange to Luna.

"RAVENCLAW!"

This seemed sensible to Rhea, and she clapped as Luna went to sit across from Howard Harkiss, and she stopped clapping when Professor McGonagall called out, "MacFarlan, Hyperion!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Prewett, Rhea!"

She couldn't breathe, but her feet propelled her forward regardless. Her cousins were watching from the Gryffindor table, with the exception of Ginny, one of three as yet to be Sorted. Rhea tried to force breath as she sat on the stool, but it seemed impossible. Professor McGonagall lowered the Hat onto her head, and she could hear its voice inside her head.

"Longstanding Gryffindor family, certainly," it was saying. "Plenty of bravery, to boot, but there is something else here. A desire for knowledge, a thirst for scholarship and a quiet life. Hmm. Incredible loyalty. Still, I think, RAVENCLAW!"

That last word was shouted out for the whole Hall to hear, and Rhea was able to breathe again as she stumbled over to the Ravenclaw table, sitting down beside Luna, who smiled at her with such welcoming radiance that Rhea's limbs seemed to turn to warm jelly. She felt relaxed.

/-/

Aeson Lestrange sat at the dinner table with his brother and parents, and although he had been looking forward to his sister going away to school, he couldn't help but feel slightly strange about her absence. There was an emptiness that denoted her non-presence almost glaringly, and he wondered what the news would be in the morning. Would she be in Slytherin as she so wanted to be?

Would Catherine?

/-/

Draco nodded to Adrasteia, who was not technically his cousin, but whom he'd been raised to see as a cousin in the way he saw Catherine. While he had hoped that both of them would be Sorted into Slytherin, he wasn't terribly surprised that Catherine had not been, and at least he'd gotten one of them.

"Smith, Zacharias!" was an unpleasant-looking blond boy who was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Draco saw Catherine frown at him as he sat down at the end of the table looking like he owned the place. Draco briefly pitied Zacharias Smith, who would likely be taken down a peg or two or twelve in the next seven years of his life, and painfully.

/-/

Sirius watched as "Vaisey, Charles!" was Sorted into Slytherin and "Weasley, Ginevra!" was Sorted – unsurprisingly – into Gryffindor, and he turned his attention to his daughter, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table with three other girls in her year, looking at ease and already like the ruler of her little group there. He was itching to teach her, and he was pleased to realize that he would be teaching her right before lunch on the following morning, but he was slightly disappointed that she was in Gryffindor.

At least she was not in Slytherin, he told himself, glancing at his niece, who was sitting stiffly at the Slytherin table. At least those two were finally separated. Perhaps it would improve Catherine, being among the most honest and true House. Perhaps some of the affectation she'd picked up around her cousin would melt away with seven years among the badgers.

/-/

Remus leaned forward as Dumbledore stood to speak. Typically, he said a few words, put the food on the tables with his key words, and then saved any points for after the feast, but given the very strange pattern of the Sorting, Remus was not surprised when the headmaster said more than a few words.

"Before we eat," he said, looking out at them all, "I would like to say that there is nothing wrong with the Sorting Hat. We have, it would seem, a very unusual pattern of alphabet corresponding heavily to House, which is not totally unknown in the history of this school, rare though it may be. I ask you not to question the Sorting tonight, and I assure you that where you have been placed is where you belong. Now, if you please, chrysalis."

With this last word, food appeared on the plates, and Remus surveyed the responses of the new students at this feat. The last boy Sorted to Gryffindor, something Creevey, had eyes the size of saucers – solidifying in Remus's mind that the boy was Muggle-born. Catherine wasn't particularly bothered by it, but the blonde girl who had been put into Hufflepuff after her looked as though this was the most marvelous thing she'd ever seen.

"So, a Hufflepuff," Remus said, smiling at his best friend. "I suppose if there's anything Kitty gets from her father, it's loyalty in spades."

"And stubbornness," Severus said, not looking up as he stuck his fork into a potato to stabilize it for cutting into pieces.

"I guess it is a pretty decent fit, isn't it?" Sirius said, raising his eyebrows, musing. "I'm a bit surprised, but it's more reasonable than Ravenclaw. She's not a Ravenclaw. I have to say, I'm a bit relieved." He glanced at Severus and said, "Not that I think you would have dealt with Kitty poorly."

"I recognize, Black, that your issue with your daughter being Sorted into Slytherin would have been based in your childhood traumas and your concern with her behavior around her cousin, and not to do with the way I manage my House," Severus said, boredom in his voice. "I take no offense."

Sirius hummed, looking out at Catherine again and smiling the sappy smile he sometimes wore when talking about her as a very small child, telling Remus over drinks about some new skill she'd mastered, or a word she'd recently learned.

"Hufflepuff," he said, as though getting used to the word. "Kitty's a Hufflepuff."

/-/

Colin asked Ginny, as the redhead across from him introduced herself, if she would pass the potatoes, which she did willingly.

"So," she said, "have your family been in Gryffindor before?"

He felt his neck turning hot and he said, "Actually, my family's never been to Hogwarts."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Muggle-born. Right. My family have all been in Gryffindor. That's one of my brothers, there." She gestured to a red-haired Prefect explaining something to Horace, who looked very nervous about whatever they were discussing. "Are you nervous?"

Colin wanted to say no, but that felt dishonest. He was exceedingly nervous.

"A little," was the answer he settled on, maintaining a bit of his pride. "I don't really know anybody, so I'm not sure what to do if I get lost or something."

"Stick with me," Ginny said with an encouraging smile. "My friends were all Sorted into other Houses, so I'll need someone to find classes with, too. My brothers know every inch of the school, so they'll be helpful if we need directions. I hear History of Magic is a fantastic course. Professor Black is brilliant."

"Which one is that?" Colin asked, glancing up at the High Table.

"Erm, you see the two men with black hair?" he nodded. "The one to the left. The handsome one. The other one is Professor Snape, teaches Potions. Professor Black is my friend Catherine's father. I spent the last month at their place over the summer. Anyway, he's supposed to be the best teacher here, although my brothers say Defense Against the Dark Arts is a lot of fun, too."

Colin just nodded. He would feel lucky if he managed to get to all of his classes on time for a week, never mind enjoy any of them.

"So, Colin, what do you do for fun?" she asked, passing him the chicken.

"Fun?" he repeated, mulling over the word. He did lots of things, but he wanted to pick something that wasn't dull. Ginny seemed to be a very active, interesting person, and Catherine – the girl who was her friend over at the Hufflepuff table – looked like a very exotic and interesting person. If he was going to make friends with them, he was going to have to be a little bit interesting. "I like to take pictures. I'm pretty good at it. But Muggle ones. They stay still."

"Really?" Ginny said, her eyebrows darting upward. "They don't move at all?" Colin shook his head. "Well, I don't know a lot about the process, but I bet we could find a way to get your pictures to move properly. Kitty or Rhea would know where to look."

"Rhea?"

"My cousin," she said, nodding toward the Ravenclaw table. "She and Luna got Sorted together. The four of us took the train together."

Colin felt a slight pang of jealousy that she already had at least three friends, even if she'd been Sorted apart from them, but things seemed to be going well. If things worked out, perhaps he would have four new friends instead of just the one.

 **A/N: KITTY IS A HUFFLEPUFF! :D I had to do it. At least one of Sirius's children had to be with the loyal and true. And in many ways, she's the most like her father.**

 **Review Prompt: So, if you're pre-empting pairings…. Who d'you think I'm pairing Colin off with? ;)**

 **-C**


	24. Day One

Dean sat down with Seamus, taking the copy of the second year Gryffindor time table from Harry, who was glancing over at the Hufflepuff table repeatedly.

With a groan, Dean realized he hadn't needed to wake up so early except to get his schedule. They didn't have a class until Potions right before lunch, and then only two periods after.

"Mondays are nice," he said. "We get Professor Lupin, anyway. No History of Magic until Wednesday, though."

"Once a week for two hours," Ron said, frowning. "I guess less homework?"

Neville sat down, already holding his time table, and Harry looked up at him expectantly.

"Right," Neville said. "Rhea has Double Charms this morning and Potions right before dinner, and Kitty's got a full morning and only Potions with the Ravenclaws in the afternoon."

"What's she got?" Harry asked, pouring some milk into his cereal.

"One hour Charms," Neville said, "with her second hour on Thursday. And then Herbology and History."

Ron and Seamus groaned with jealousy that Dean felt echoed. They wanted to have History of Magic, and it wasn't fair that first years had it when they didn't have it til Wednesday.

The boys ate their cereal somewhat dejectedly, but when they finished, Seamus suggested they take the two free hours before they truly started term to play a rousing round of Exploding Snap. Dean suspected that Seamus was looking to rid himself of eyebrows to make Potions less embarrassing when he blew up a cauldron, but the game seemed a good idea, regardless. The boys gathered up their books and went back to their dormitory while other students made their way to class.

/-/

Brontes sat down to breakfast and raised his eyebrow at his father to ask the question both Lestrange boys were dying to ask. His father pulled out a letter from Uncle Sirius and announced the news.

"Adra has been Sorted into Slytherin," he said, smiling slightly. "To everyone's surprise, Catherine has been Sorted into Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff?" Aeson cried. "No way."

Brontes didn't think it was so strange, although he had expected for her to be Sorted into Gryffindor like her father. But he had long thought that if Aunt Cara had gone to Hogwarts, she would have been a Hufflepuff. Loyalty was the most important thing to her, and Catherine was very much the same.

"You don't think Caro will be a Hufflepuff, do you?" Aeson asked. "I don't think I could be okay with that."

"What does it have to do with you?" Brontes asked coolly. "Caroline will almost certainly be put in Gryffindor or Slytherin, and Jason will be put in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. And it really won't make a difference to you either way, will it?"

Aeson lowered his eyes to his plate, but Brontes immediately felt that he should not have spoken so harshly. In truth, it wouldn't make a difference to Aeson where Caroline Black was Sorted, but he'd been listening to the suggestions of Uncle Lucius that their father and Uncle Sirius should betroth their youngest children. He hadn't figured out yet the potential issues with marrying a cousin, even a half-cousin.

They wouldn't marry, Brontes knew, but Aeson had a secret wish to marry Caroline because he saw her as an equal. Perhaps being Sorted separately would be good for them, Brontes thought, pouring sugar on his porridge.

/-/

"So," Harry said as the boys sat down together in their dormitory, pulling out the deck, "Snape, Sprout, and Lupin. Astronomy tonight. D'you reckon that's why we get the easier Mondays, because we've got Astronomy on Monday nights?"

"Maybe," Dean said, watching Seamus shuffle the cards. "I mean, it would make more sense to give us an easy Tuesday, unless they expect us to sleep Monday mornings? We've got class all morning tomorrow. Double Herbology and Transfiguration."

"How many hours of Herbology do we have in a week, anyway?" Ron groaned.

Neville, who loved Herbology, sat up a bit straighter and said, "Four. This is a heavy Herbology year. Apparently, critical to our understanding of the subject. Terry Boot told me that Ravenclaw and Slytherin basically spends all Thursday in Herbology. But he's got an hour of Potions before lunch."

"Thursday?" Ron said, looking down at his copy of the timetable. "Ha, Slytherin's got horrible Thursdays. Three hours Herbology and Double Potions before dinner."

The boys exchanged triumphant glances, as though their schedules were a sign of superiority. Whatever flaws their timetable had, the Gryffindor Second Years had at least two hours off classes every day of the week, which Slytherin could apparently not boast of.

"Any news from Wood about Quidditch, Harry?" Dean asked, stretching his legs out. He didn't want to spend all his time out of class thinking about classes. Seamus handed him his cards.

Harry shook his head and said, "I reckon he'll let us know this week if he's going to bother with trials. We've got such a solid team, and unless he wants reserves I can't fathom anybody's going to break into the side. And you know how Oliver feels about breaking up team chemistry."

Dean didn't know, but he could guess. He'd been practicing his flying and had a mind to try for Chaser eventually, but he didn't have great hopes of making the team before sixth year, when Spinnet and Johnson graduated. He certainly wouldn't make it as anything but a reserve any earlier, and what was the point practicing with the team if you never got to play?

And that was if he made it at all.

"D'you think Kitty will try out?" Ron said. "Y'know, next year."

"Doubt it," Neville said. "She likes to race, but she couldn't be in a sport. Doesn't like someone else telling her what to do."

Harry and Neville laughed, and Ron nodded thoughtfully, and Dean said nothing. From what he heard about Catherine Black from Harry and Neville, it seemed like she belonged in Slytherin, but Professor Dumbledore had assured that there was nothing wrong with the Sorting Hat, so maybe she wasn't as bad as she sounded. He supposed time would tell.

"Ready?" Seamus asked, arranging a couple of his cards, his hands beginning to tremble slightly. Either one of his cards was already ready to blow, or he had a bad hand and wasn't able to control his nerves.

Probably a bit of both.

The other four boys quickly examined and arranged their cards, and with the final person having his cards in place, Ron took a deep breath and turned over the top of the deck.

All five groaned with disappointment.

/-/

Double Transfiguration.

Adrasteia Lestrange had to begin her academic career in, of all things, two hours of Transfiguration, first thing Monday morning. Catherine had Charms, and Adrasteia had Double bloody Transfiguration.

After roll call, the Slytherins were given a very stern lecture by Professor McGonagall saying that should anyone not be taking her class seriously, they would be asked to leave and would not be allowed back. A few of the boys sat a bit straighter at this, including Harper, who sat next to Adrasteia. She had a feeling he would be the one licking Snape's boots before long to get Prefect, and she couldn't decide if she felt sorry for him or thought him pathetic. She supposed time would tell.

In truth, Adrasteia wouldn't care much about doing well in Transfiguration, but she'd seen Uncle Sirius do some incredible complex Transfiguration as a way to teach the girls that their studies were important, and it had captured Adrasteia's imagination. There was a rumor that he was even an illegal Animagus. Cool as it was, Adrasteia never believed it, but she and Catherine had talked about learning someday, probably legally.

With Catherine, one never really could be sure.

So as much as she didn't feel like listening, Adrasteia paid attention and took notes and told herself that someday, with or without Catherine, she could still learn to do great things with Transfiguration.

/-/

Charles Vaisey decided that he could have handled one hour of Transfiguration, but by the second he was growing tired of it. The worst part was, he knew they had Double Charms in the afternoon, and he wasn't even interested in Charms.

He decided to take his boredom as an opportunity to examine his classmates and consider them. He'd thought a lot about the boys the night before while they got ready for bed after the feast, but he hadn't had any time to think about the girls. He knew he didn't care for Harper, but that Hilliard and MacFarlane were alright.

Of course, whatever he thought of her, Charles knew that he had to keep Adrasteia Lestrange happy. She was the eldest child of a powerful family, not to mention the niece of one of his professors. She didn't seem agreeable, not like Aveline Hooper.

Vaisey let his eyes skim Aveline, who was pale, with rich brown hair and the most brilliant blue eyes he'd ever seen. They weren't a pale blue like so many blue-eyed people, but almost an ocean blue, deep and beautiful and just the right compliment to her hair. Of course, she might have looked like a delicate lady, but he'd already heard her swear twice and it was only the first day of the term.

Somehow, that made him find her more interesting.

She was definitely the only Slytherin girl of his year with anything interesting about her, and he'd even had a chat with her over breakfast about her favorite Quidditch team – Puddlemere United – and where they stacked up to his Tornadoes. She didn't have vague ideas, but tactical analysis and intelligent concerns about everything from signing practices to management issues.

Yes, interesting indeed, he thought, feeling Professor McGonagall's eyes on him. He hastily went back to copying down his notes, slightly embarrassed to be caught staring at a girl, as if such things were indicative of anything.

Because they weren't.

/-/

The Gryffindor boys made their way down to the dungeons for Potions, Seamus short an eyebrow and a half and Dean with part of a thumbnail partially melted, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

On the way down, Ron heard Harry call out Kitty's name, and the five boys paused, as four girls came their way. Catherine was walking with Ginny, Rhea, and a blonde girl with a Ravenclaw tie Ron didn't know.

"Where are you boys off to, then?" Catherine asked cheerfully.

"Potions," they chorused, and she glanced at Seamus's eyebrows with curiosity, but said nothing.

"I've got Daddy next," she said, grinning. "Herbology is excellent, Harry. Professor Sprout loves me. Ginny and I are partners. Anyway, Ginny's off to Charms, and Rhea and Luna have a free period before lunch. Tell me at lunch what sort of mood Uncle Snape is in today, will you?"

Harry grunted that he would, and several of them turned to give Harry a curious look, including Ron. Why on earth did Catherine Black refer to Snape as an uncle? As far as Ron could figure, they weren't actually related.

"Got to go, or I'll be late," she said, a little breathless. "Anyway, lunch?"

"Lunch!" Harry said, frowning after her. He then swept off toward the dungeons with an expression that told all the boys quite plainly that he wasn't going to answer questions about the conversation any time soon.

/-/

Neville despised Potions. Words could not express how he despised Potions, and in reality, Potions hated him as well. He set up next to Harry and Ron, with Hermione at their table. Draco was on the other end of the room, and Lavender and Parvati set up at a table with Seamus and Dean.

The one bright spot was the look Lavender gave Seamus when she saw his eyebrows.

Hermione leaned forward and hissed, "Exploding Snap again?"

"What else were we going to do for two hours?" Ron grumbled, and before Hermione could tell them they should have been studying – as they all knew she would say – Professor Snape began class.

He did seem to be in a surprisingly good mood, Neville thought, as he took notes on the properties of beetle eyes in potions to do with mental states. No points from Gryffindor, no snide remarks about someone's inadequacies. Perhaps the earlier classes had been especially good.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to be in a bit of a bad mood, and he'd been tense since their conversation with Catherine.

Then again, Neville thought as he scratched his quill across parchment, maybe Snape's good mood and Harry's poor one were related. He certainly wouldn't put it past the dungeon bat.

/-/

Professor Flitwick, like Professor Sprout, was very kind, and Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of her friends, with their kind heads of house. Professor McGonagall seemed fair and all, but she wasn't exactly flowing with tenderness.

Her eyes flicked over to Colin, sitting beside her, taking some notes. In the margins, however, she saw that he was scribbling down something in shorthand – which was rather impressive, she thought – and the little she could make out she thought was about his photographs. Perhaps he was interested in finding something to make his photographs move like proper ones after all. Ginny smiled to herself, deciding it would be good to have a project when she couldn't be with her friends.

Fred and George would know where to look. She made a mental note to herself to ask them how Wizards developed photographs, and if they knew someone in Muggle Studies who could talk about the difference between the two.

As kind as Professor Flitwick was, Ginny found herself jealous of Catherine – not for the first time – knowing that she was having loads of fun in History of Magic with her father while Ginny was trying to keep her mind on task in Charms. But she would have History after lunch, she reminded herself, and then she would be the one having fun.

/-/

Luna sat in the Charms corridor with Rhea, who was marking down in her diary exactly when to do the studying they had recommended to them for Charms from the morning.

"Do we have time before Potions, d'you think," Rhea said, "to get all of this done? Or do you think I should save it for later?"

"It's not due until next Monday," Luna told her eager friend. "If you don't have time to finish before Potions, we have Thursday off after lunch. We could get together with Ginny and Kitty then. They'll have the assignment by then, too."

Rhea hummed her acknowledgement of this plan before scribbling something in her diary. Luna didn't bother checking where she'd put the assignment. She'd find out soon enough.

"I hope Kitty's having a lovely time in History," Luna said, pulling out the text on herbs and fungi. "It must be nice for her, being so close to her father."

Rhea hummed again, and Luna wondered – not for the last time – how her own father was doing, what he was up to, and if he was pleased with the letter she'd sent telling him she'd been Sorted into Ravenclaw, like both of her parents had been. Catherine already had news from home via her father that the family was very proud of her, and although Catherine said this was hardly surprising, Luna could tell that she was relieved. Perhaps she'd thought less of Hufflepuff before being Sorted into it.

Lots of people seemed to, Luna had realized.

"We should read some philosophy," Luna said, squinting up at the gray sky and wondering if it would rain. It didn't smell like rain, but it wouldn't be the first time her nose lied to her.

"What for?"

"I would rather not wait around hours to get into the tower," Luna said simply. "Would you?"

/-/

Caroline flicked a bit of balled up parchment at her brother, who was reading something that was almost certainly dull. He'd been ignoring her all morning.

"What?" Jason finally said, lifting his face to look at her with a scowl.

"You promised."

"What did I promise, Caro?"

"You promised we'd have loads of fun when Kitty left," she said in her most annoying voice to give in extra incentive to keep her from feeling dull later. "And all you've done is sit around being boring, as per usual. When exactly were you going to keep your promise?"

Jason sighed, looking up at the clock and glancing down at his book. For a brief, aggravating second, Caroline thought he was going to go back to reading, but instead he closed the book, set aside, and stretched his limbs before standing.

"Alright," he said, not smiling, but showing no obvious signs of annoyance. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Caroline grinned.

/-/

Draco did not underestimate that Snape's good mood would lead to good results. He recognized that the good mood could be a product of many things, most of which had little or nothing to do with students, and Draco could not count on that mood to get him any points for Slytherin in class.

Of course, Granger could never count on points for Gryffindor, but Draco did notice, as class went on, that Professor Snape did not take any points off Gryffindor, either. Nothing off Granger or Harry or Neville, or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps the earlier students had done well, or perhaps he was looking forward to a class he would be teaching in the afternoon. Draco frowned at Blaise, who nodded that he had noticed, and then shrugged.

Draco had introduced Adrasteia to Blaise the night before, and they greeted each other with civility and appropriate levels of respect with their stations in life. Draco thought it was a bit boring, but he supposed that was what could be expected. Neither seemed especially interested in the other, and Draco knew that Adrasteia was sulking because she'd been Sorted separately from her cousin, not that Draco was especially surprised.

Perhaps a tiny bit disappointed, but certainly not surprised.

He wondered, as Professor Snape asked a question about potions to induce positive mental states, whether Catherine was due to have Potions sometime in the afternoon.

When he realized he was the only one not hurrying to copy down whatever had been Granger's answer, he blinked and tried his best to refocus on the class. The last thing he needed was to lose his place as second in the class, even if he didn't gain any ground on Granger this year.

/-/

Ourania, Damon, and Cora were spending a great deal of time at the Burrow, and they understood that this state of affairs was going to continue for some time. Their sister being at school, their father being very busy at work, and their mother's strange crusade against an author none of them had read, they tried not to think about how often they spent whole days or even whole nights at the Burrow, or how often Uncle Gideon spent the night at their house so they could sleep in their own beds. It was so complex that their mother had pinned a schedule to the wall for the next three months.

"Could be fun," Ourania said, shrugging. She knew Cora was terribly confused and upset, but Ourania preferred to see the bright side of things at all times.

"How?" Damon asked.

It was not a contentious question. Damon never asked contentious questions. It was a calm, earnest question from someone who was trying to carry on a conversation while reading a book he'd already read twice.

"Well, they have way more space to fly at the Burrow," Ourania said, "and their gnomes are sassy."

"I hate gnomes," Cora sniffed.

Ourania rolled her eyes.

"Well, fine. Hate everything. Have no fun. It's not going to change anything, Cora. We still have to go."

She immediately regretted the words as Cora began to cry.

/-/

Sirius felt as though he was walking on a cloud. He'd just finished what he felt was potentially the best introductory lesson of his teaching career, and to top it off, there was his daughter sitting in the front row with Ryana Cotton. When the bell rang to dismiss the students to lunch, he motioned for her to stay back, and she did, not bothering to tell the other girls to go on. Apparently, these were not her friends per se.

She stood and crossed to him, a large smile on her face.

"You're a wonderful teacher, Daddy," she said, letting him pull her into a firm hug. "I feel like I've already learned loads from you. Herbology was great, too. Ginny's my partner."

"Is she?" Sirius asked, smoothing her perfect brown hair beneath his hands. "I'll bet nothing scares you two."

"Nope."

He breathed in, feeling elation and terror all at once. His little girl was growing up so perfectly, and he was so incredibly proud of her, but at the same time it was all happening too fast. Too soon boys would be asking her on dates, and she would drink when she thought he didn't know about it, and perhaps she would even sneak out of bounds like he'd done so many times as a student. Would her mistakes be his, or would they be something worse?

"Tell me about your friends, Kitty-Cat. Are you friendly with Miss Cotton?"

"Ryana's fine," Catherine said, shrugging and pulling out of the hug. "We have beds next to each other. Rosalyn snores, so I'm glad she's on the other side of the room. Ginny and Rhea and I made friends with Luna. Have you taught the Ravenclaws yet?"

"No, not until tomorrow."

She told him all about Luna Lovegood, and he was pleased that she'd befriended Xeno's little girl. If there was something to be said for his daughter's friends, they were all from good families. Not blood purity, not money, not status, but they were good people with big hearts and strong convictions. Perhaps this would be a positive influence on her.

"Well, let me walk you to lunch, Kitty-Cat," he said, kissing her nose. "And do me a favor and make a promise."

"Yes?"

"Don't make life difficult for Professor Snape."

He was torn between pride and uneasiness at the wicked grin she had when he said this. At least he knew Severus could handle her. For now.

 **A/N: So, classes have begun, friendships are forming, and eyebrows are singed. Don't worry, things kick into gear soon.**

 **Review Prompt: What d'you suppose Catherine's best subject will be?**

 **-C**


	25. Consternation

It did not take long for Sirius to notice a kind of rivalry setting itself up between two main cliques, with Harry at the head of one and Catherine at the head of the other. One consisted of three boys and a girl, the other four girls and a boy.

"I should have seen this coming, shouldn't it?" Sirius muttered to Remus and Severus, frowning. "I mean, this was always inevitable."

"If you mean," Severus said, pouring himself some water in Sirius's quarters, "that you should have foreseen that your daughter would inherit some of her father's disregard for rules and penchant for attention, and that Potter's son would do the same, then yes, you certainly should have. As for their pitting against each other, I am not certain that will always be the case."

"True," Sirius said, pouring himself some firewhiskey.

Even Lily and James stopped fighting eventually.

The thought of comparing Lily and James with Harry and Catherine caused Sirius to choke on his alcohol and Remus gave him an alarmed, puzzled look. Sirius shook his head.

The teachers were calling it chaos. Catherine was calling it nothing. And the students were calling it the Great Prank War.

Technically speaking, none of the adults could be certain who started it, but if Sirius were betting money on it, he'd blame his daughter. It definitely started between the two cliques, and there had been a major growth of activity outward from there. Catherine and Harry had started out small, with childish pranks of simple practical and magical intent, and their ambitions had grown. Even more importantly, as others jumped onto the bandwagon, older and more talented and hot-headed students had become a part of the mess, and a Ravenclaw fifth year had been put in the hospital wing with a concussion and inverted nostrils that afternoon.

"The question is, what do we do about it," Remus said darkly.

Always the Prefect, Sirius thought with mild bitterness.

If not for that injury, Sirius would have been perfectly happy for the Prank War to continue for the next six years. It might have gone on longer, since Caroline and Aeson would have undoubtedly picked up where their predecessors left off. But things had grown out of hand, and the last thing Sirius wanted was for Hogwarts to be unsafe, not while his daughter was there.

"Nothing," Severus surprised the other two men by saying. "We do nothing." He set down his water as they raised quizzical eyebrows. "If you try to interfere before things burn themselves out, as they will undoubtedly do, you risk causing students to be sneakier, which some will do, and that may stop students from coming forward in the event of a true emergency. No doubt if something happened to Catherine you would want her friends and opponents alike to feel safe reporting the incident in question."

Sirius's stomach turned. For the moment, he supposed, he could handle doing nothing, but he would not do so willingly. If anything, he would be eager and anxious to keep an even closer eye on Catherine. Nothing was going to happen to his little girl, not while there was breath in his body.

"So," Severus continued, pouring himself more water. "I wanted to have a word with you, Black, about your daughter."

"What about her?" Sirius asked, hesitant.

"For reasons I cannot begin to fathom," Severus said, smirking, "she seems to have an incredible aptitude for my subject." Sirius's face quickly expressed his surprise. "Indeed, it is most shocking. However, I wish, with your permission, to tutor her independently. I believe she shows true promise as a Potioneer, and someday she could do very similar work to that which Lily does, if she is so inclined. I want, with your permission, to give her the best possible start down that path."

Sirius had hoped Catherine would excel at his best subjects: Transfiguration, Defense, Herbology, History. She did well in them, but he'd never expected her special talent to be Potions, of all things. Even more shocking was that Severus was willing to go an extra mile to help her.

"Alright, then," he said, shrugging. "Make sure she's still got time to be young, but extra lessons should keep her safer for a little while more each week."

Remus snorted with amusement, but the three men each poured themselves more of their drink of choice, and conversation turned from the students to Lily's latest updates to Wolfsbane.

/-/

Lily sat down with Dorcas, a little surprised to get a call to meet her old friend mid-week, but mostly anxious that whatever they were meeting about would be troublesome or even dangerous. She worried about their children, and about Sirius, who was bound to be dragged in somehow. It was the last thing he needed.

"Lockhart is a small fish, isn't he?" Lily asked without preamble as she poured their tea. "You're going after someone bigger."

"I'm going for the top of the ladder," Dorcas said grimly. "Not Fudge, don't give me that look. No, but it's not far off. Lily, promise me you won't freak out when I tell you who I'm going to try to flush out."

Lily's eyes narrowed but she nodded her promise. Dorcas still hesitated for a moment, hiding behind a long sip of tea.

"I think I have to cut this thing off at the head, and I think the head may be Dolores Umbridge."

Lily almost dropped her cup.

/-/

Hermione wanted to be able to say that none of it was her fault and wash her hands of the matter, but she knew better. She'd seen Harry or Ron use spells she'd discussed with an apparently innocently curious Neville. Just like she'd seen Ginny and Catherine use spells that their Ravenclaw friends researched for them.

"This is getting out of hand, Neville," Hermione said darkly when the Ravenclaw girl returned to school, finally released from the Hospital Wing. "What if something terrible happened to one of you?"

The rims of Neville's ears went pink and he said, "One of who?"

"You," she said, shrugging, feeling her own cheeks go slightly pink. "You know, you boys. Those girls. Creevey. I realize you can't be held responsible for the behavior of the rest of the school, but what if Ron accidentally hurt his sister, or one of you lot hurt Catherine Black?"

"Of all the people who might get hurt," Neville said earnestly, "we had better wish on everything we can think of that it's not Kitty."

Hermione was startled by the intensity of how he said this, but she nodded. She supposed that if there was someone not to injure, it was the child of a professor, even if she was one of the main reasons all the chaos started in the first place. From what Hermione had seen, Professor Black was devoted to his daughter, and the idea of something happening to her could turn their jovial professor into something else entirely.

/-/

Remus's eyes narrowed as he saw the book Luna Lovegood slipped Catherine coming and going outside his classroom. It was far too advanced for their level of magic for a start, but he happened to remember using that book in a prank war or two of his own, and his confidence in Catherine's discernment was not such that he felt safe letting her go through it.

She did have a fair amount of her father in her, after all.

"Kitty," he said firmly, gesturing for her to come forward.

Merlin, she was good at feigning innocence. Had she seen her father make that face, or was it somehow genetic? Whatever the reason for her using it, Remus found the likeness to be uncanny.

"Yes, Uncle Remus?" she said, smiling at him sweetly.

His eyes narrowed, and her face fell slightly.

"Book," he said firmly. "No, the one you shrank and slipped up your sleeve."

Ryana Cotton gasped, impressed at this feat, and Remus hoped he didn't look too impressed. It was magic beyond her level, and when she reluctantly produced the book he found that it was also done perfectly.

"See me at lunch, Kitty," he said, his voice low. "And maybe we can keep this between us."

She grew pale at the suggestion that he was going to bring her father into things if she didn't cooperate, and with her nod he knew she would do what he asked of her. That was her mother in her.

/-/

Severus found out about the book from Remus at lunchtime, and promised to keep the matter from Sirius unless Catherine showed any further trouble, but he had his extra lessons with her that evening, and he decided to take the opportunity to place a bit of fear in her. Knowing her temperament, it would not stop her behavior, but perhaps it would temper it.

"Come in," he said, as usual. "Sit down. Get out your cauldron."

Catherine blinked with surprise at this steady set of instruction, but she nodded and did as she was told, sitting down and looking up at him expectantly.

"Every potioneer has a signature, Miss Black," he said softly. "Did you know that?"

To her credit, she stayed outwardly placid as she said, "No, sir."

Inside her head, though, he could see that she was slightly panicked, thinking back through her recent memories.

"It would be to my disadvantage as your teacher," he said softly, "for me to tell you what your signature is, but I assure you, Miss Black, you have one." She swallowed. "And when Mr. Harper came to me belching rainbow vapor, and when I examined his pumpkin juice, imagine my surprise when I found your signature in the rather advanced potion involved in his predicament."

He was irritated when she smirked slightly and said, "Sir, I doubt very much that you were surprised. You know almost everything that happens here."

Perhaps more sternly than was necessary, Severus said, "When I was young, I used my skills with brewing for things I should not have, and at first no one was hurt, and then a few people were ill, and then a few more, and then people died. Do you understand me?"

Catherine paled, and he had to remind himself that she was only a child, only eleven years old. She wasn't being cruel, just having fun.

But that had been how James Potter saw his behavior, and a young Sirius Black, and a young Peter Pettigrew, and how much did it really take for one of them to turn skills in "fun" to the services of the Dark Lord? Whatever penance Severus had to pay in his life for the things he had done, the least he could do was give Catherine Black a small scare to help her think twice about her behavior.

"You are very talented," Severus said softly. "And you are very clever. Making Mr. Harper belch rainbow vapor is not a quality use of your time and talents, and is not good for your character. Regardless of how your Head of House or your friends or even your father think of you, think of this incident, I am very disappointed in you, Miss Black, and I trust you will do better in future not to misuse the education I am investing in you. I am not taking extra time out of my very busy schedule to teach you so that you can waste your talent on such trivialities. Are we quite clear?"

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice smaller than he'd ever heard it, and he was satisfied to begin her lessons.

It was not until she left for the night that he realized his mistake. He'd told her that he did not want her to misuse her talents, her education in Potions. Catherine was no fool. She would never misuse brewing again, but he had not said anything about wandwork.

He closed his tired eyes and sighed. Just like her bloody father.

/-/

Cora sat down on a chair in the back yard, frowning up at the stars. She tried to remember any of their names, but she could only remember the ones she saw in the earliest days of summer. If any of those were still out now, she couldn't find them, and that frustrated her.

Uncle Gideon sat down beside her, at her feet, looking up to where she was looking.

"What's up there?" he asked.

"I can't remember any of their names," she said, feeling slightly defeated. "Can you?"

"Ha, no, I don't, love. I was never any good at Astronomy. Ask Uncle Sirius. He was always good at remembering that sort of thing. What's been troubling you today?"

Cora shrugged, not thinking about how he couldn't see her from where he was sitting. After a long moment of silence between them she said, "I miss Rhea. I hadn't realized how much I would miss her, but between her being gone and Mum never being home, it's harder than I thought it would be."

Uncle Gideon nodded, resting his head on her arm. His hair was soft and his skin was warm where it replaced the cool night air. She should have put on a jumper before coming outside, but she hadn't thought of it.

"You're a very brave girl," he said gently. "It'll be your turn to go soon enough, my dear. You'll see Rhea every day and you'll probably be quite sick of her and not miss me at all."

"Never," Cora insisted with a gasp. He chuckled, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice. She wondered what was bothering him, but she supposed that it was perhaps that she was growing up, and he wasn't ready for that.

/-/

Dean pretended not to listen as Harry, Neville, and Ron examined their battle plans. He pretended not to listen because he was nervous about getting involved, but also because he knew that if he did get sucked it, it would be to help the girls.

He liked his roommates, but Dean knew winning quality when he saw it. Harry was brilliant at Quidditch, but from the pranks displayed thus far, he was out of his depth for creativity and sheer willingness to take things to the next step. He was always saying in a hushed voice, to Neville, how he couldn't hurt Catherine with whatever he was up to, that no matter what they did, Catherine couldn't get hurt. Pride dictated that the boys continue while they were losing to the girls, but they weren't willing to do what was truly necessary to win.

Dean was almost certain the girls had no such qualms.

On the whole, he thought he would have been much happier without the Great Prank War. It would have made it easier to get to class, to have a quiet moment to study, to sleep in peace and not in a war room. He was actually starting to look forward to classes as a kind of safe zone.

The door burst open violently and Seamus came in clutching at a stich in his side, gasping for air. The other four boys sat up straighter, looking at him, concerned and wary. He'd left the door open, so either he was being careless because whatever he was about to say was important, or he was the instrument of an ambush. Dean didn't want to think what would happen if Ginny found some way to lay an ambush in their dormitory.

Finally, Seamus found his breath enough to close the door and speak.

"Ginny and Creevey just left the dormitory," he said eagerly. "I waited until they were done speaking because they didn't see me, and I wanted to hear everything."

Harry stood, scattering some of his battle plans based on their maps of the Goblin Rebellion of 1346, from their History of Magic homework.

"What did they say?" he asked.

"Ginny was really upset," Seamus said grinning. "Apparently Kitty Black had a book confiscated."

"A book?" Dean asked, puzzled. What kind of books were confiscated?

"The book they'd been using for their planning."

This seemed to mean a great deal to Harry, who punched the air triumphantly and pulled mirror out of his pocket, turning it over. He looked at it for a long moment before shaking his head and stuffing it back in his pocket.

"She's too clever," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "She won't surrender from such a minor setback."

"If that's the book I think it is," Neville said softly, "that's a pretty big setback. And if whoever confiscated it tells her father…"

"It was Lupin," Seamus said helpfully.

Neville and Harry groaned. Apparently, Dean surmised, Lupin would not tell Catherine's father about whatever book it was that had been taken from her possession.

"She'll just find another source of ideas," Harry said, pacing. "I wouldn't put it past the twins to help her, either."

"They're my brothers," Ron argued weakly.

Dean thought that was overstating a matter of familial loyalty. Dean knew that if he were family and choosing between the two, he'd pick Ginny's side. She was youngest, the only girl, and a little bit scary. Plus, Dean would be more afraid of Catherine than Harry any day. And Dean wasn't sure, but he thought that one of the twins might fancy Catherine a bit, so their loyalty was by no means secure.

"I could dig around my family library too," Neville said, although his expression wasn't sure that was a good idea.

"That won't be until Christmas," Harry said, frowning. "We need something we can use now."

The five boys sat in silence, trying to think of a fresh source of ideas. Goblin Rebellions were limited, it would seem.

"We could use the Restricted Section," Harry finally said, a slow smile over his face.

"We can't," Ron said. "It's restricted."

Harry's grin was even wider as he said, "Whoever said we'd be there during the day?"

 **A/N: The Great Prank War! I've been so excited to get this started. A little way to spice up this year, what with no basilisk attacks. The two cliques are trying to assert their power. Sirius is trying not to be tooooo proud.**

 **Review Prompt: Would you be team Harry or team Catherine? In the prank war.**

 **-C**


	26. Death-Day Party

Ryana was very puzzled that Catherine had been invited to the very strange event in the first place, and she pointed out the oddness as they dressed for breakfast on Halloween.

"But you're a Hufflepuff," Ryana said. "And Nearly-Headless Nick is the Gryffindor ghost. Why would he invite you to his deathday party?

Catherine shrugged and said, "Daddy was a Gryffindor. I think they owe each other favors, although I'm not sure who owes whom. The boys are going, too."

Ryana narrowed her eyes at this. As far as she was concerned, the whole prank war was a mess, a disaster waiting to happen, but she bit her tongue and said nothing about it. To her, this was loyalty. Regardless of her own feelings on the matter, she would back Catherine, withhold information for Catherine, and maybe even tell a white lie or two for Catherine because they were housemates. She wouldn't necessarily say friends, but she'd sooner lie for Catherine than for Zacharias Smith.

"Harry said he and Ron and Hermione and Neville are going," Catherine said, frowning as she tried to decide how to do her luxurious, long brown hair. "And I've got Daddy to get in Ginny and Luna and Rhea."

Ryana couldn't possibly manage to hold in her comments at that, and she said, "Please tell me you aren't going to turn the party into a battlefield."

"Of course not," Catherine said, winking. "Daddy will be there. Him knowing I'm up to something and seeing me do it are two totally different things. Up or down?"

"Up," Ryana said. She quickly offered to do a French braid for Catherine, who accepted. Ryana loved playing with Catherine's hair. She'd never seen hair so shiny, nor felt hair so soft, and it absolutely staggered her that Catherine could keep her hair so long without any problems.

The two girls gossiped for a while about their housemates, particularly the stupid boys in their year. Bar Colin Creevey of Gryffindor – who was sweet but very strange – there wasn't anyone particularly worth speaking to in the male half of the species.

"Have you befriended any of the second year boys?" Catherine asked, winking.

Ryana felt her neck go hot as she shook her head. Hannah Abbott had introduced her to Ernie and Justin, but she hadn't exactly spent time with them. Justin was fit, but she wasn't even sure if he knew her name.

"Not really," she managed to say, and Catherine gave her that knowing look in the mirror as Ryana worked on her hair.

That look was the main reason Ryana didn't really think of Catherine as a close friend. They were friendly. They could gossip and chat and whatever as they were in their dormitory and Catherine's real friends were elsewhere. And Ryana knew Catherine didn't mean anything by it, but Catherine felt superior. Maybe she was superior, in ways, but it made Ryana feel small sometimes, the things she didn't know, the people she didn't dine with, the places she'd never been. The world was an open oyster for Catherine Black, and how could Ryana Cotton possibly equal her in any way?

"Don't worry about food," Catherine said when Ryana finished the braid. "Daddy's taking us to the kitchens after the party. But tell me how the dancing skeletons are, will you?"

"Sure," Ryana said, shrugging.

A special party, and she got to go to the kitchens. Granted, Catherine's father was a teacher, but it did feel unfair to Ryana. And maybe if she groveled a bit, or placed herself into Catherine's elaborate pranking plans, she would have been invited to go along as well. But Ryana had too much pride for that.

/-/

Narcissa lifted a letter from Sirius and said, "More issues with students dueling and pranking. Sirius is concerned that if things do not improve someone will be seriously injured."

Lucius hummed. He didn't really care one way or the other, except that he knew Draco and Catherine might involve themselves against each other, and as much pride he had in his son, he knew Catherine was more talented and potentially more ruthless. She had enough of her father in her that she was worth being nervous of, but he wondered if Draco would give her the respect she deserved as an opponent.

"I will write to him," Lucius said. "Perhaps there is a way to train students to behave better without extreme punishment."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes, but she said nothing. No doubt she was wondering why he thought Sirius would listen to his ideas.

Of course, Lucius understood Sirius, realized that he had a penchant toward ways for him to show off to his daughter, and to showcase his daughter's skills with pride. Perhaps Catherine did not have the same fighting spirit as her youngest sister, but she had an ability to be on par with any student Lucius had met.

Lucius would write Sirius later, he decided. For the moment, he had other things to see to, so he made a note on his desk to compose a letter with his ideas, obviously composed with care not to offend Sirius Black, or to seem like he was influencing him in any way, and he gathered up his papers to go to St. Mungo's. Whatever his feelings on werewolves, his wife's devotion to that ward was a very good thing for his public image, and Lily Potter seemed to be a sensible woman for public safety. And she was asking for him to see where his money was going.

Lucius always wanted to know where his money was going.

/-/

When it was time for the Death Day Party, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione went down to the entrance hall to meet with the others. Catherine and her friends were already waiting, and Harry froze instantly at the sight of her. He was both pleased to see her and cautious of a possible attack from her. His hand twitched toward the wand in his pocket before he remembered that they were going to the party with Uncle Sirius, and no way was she going to do something in front of her father.

"Harry," she said, smiling her sweetest smile as though they hadn't been battling for weeks. "How are you today? Having a good Halloween?"

He narrowed his eyes and nodded sharply.

She seemed to find his caution hilarious, and this was unnerving. Surely she was worried he'd do something like he was worried she would, so why did she look completely at ease? Did she have some way of pranking him without looking responsible?

Anything was possible.

"All ready to go?" he heard Uncle Sirius say in his most cheerful voice. Harry whipped around to see Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus arriving, and when he glanced back at Catherine her face had fallen slightly.

Apparently, she hadn't expected Uncle Remus to come along, so whatever she'd planned wouldn't work. Judging from the look Uncle Remus was giving her, he knew it, too.

"Yes, Daddy," she said, recovering quickly, her usual cheerful self, and she locked her arm with her father's, leading the way down to the dungeon where the party would be held.

/-/

Howard Harkiss sat with Cepheus and Kipling at the Ravenclaw table, waiting anxiously for the Halloween feast to begin. Leaning forward, he listened to what Kipling was saying about what Brynn had been saying about why Rhea and Luna weren't at the feast.

"Death Day Party," Kipling said, shrugging. "That was what she said. Gryffindor ghost, I think."

"Weasley's doing, then," Cepheus said, frowning.

"No," Howard said, glancing up at the Head Table and seeing empty seats where Professor Black and Professor Lupin usually sat, to the left of Professor Snape. "Black."

The three boys shuddered.

Catherine Black was pretty, talented, and perhaps a bit too clever for her own good, but all of them found her more than a little bit frightening since the onset of the Great Prank War. She'd not turned their attentions on any of them, and Howard half-hoped she didn't know he existed for that very reason. Still, he'd seen enough of her work to know that she wasn't one to trifle with or associate with. Fit as she was, he crossed his heart and could confidently say he would never ask her out. Scary as her father was (even though he was cool), dangerous as he was rumored to be, nothing scared Howard Harkiss more than the idea that Catherine Black might be upset with him. She was scary and brilliant and dangerous in her own right, and she wasn't a teacher. She didn't have any obligation to the school not to curse him in his sleep.

/-/

The dungeon was especially cold with the presence of dozens upon dozens of ghosts, and Harry frowned to see goosebumps raising on Catherine's arms. He thought briefly that she ought to have dressed more warmly, and then he realized that his inner voice sounded a bit too much like his mother and forced himself to think that she deserved to be cold for all the hell she'd put him through lately.

It had been fun hell, mostly, but he hated that he'd yet to best her.

"Fascinating," Luna Lovegood, one of Catherine's posse, said eagerly as she looked at the food table. "It's more putrid than I expected."

"To enhance the taste?" Hermione said, pinching her nose and leaning forward for a better look.

Harry and Catherine gagged in unison as one of the ghosts mournfully nodded.

"There's that academic curiosity," Uncle Remus said, smiling indulgently. "Ah, Kitty, come with me. There's a group of ghosts in the corner you might find interesting."

Catherine eagerly let him lead her away from the rotting food, and Harry rubbed the back of his neck looking around the room for something to do.

"Harry," Uncle Sirius said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "I know you've been preoccupied with things other than school lately."

His neck went hot against his hand and he said, "Erm, not really. I mean, not more than usual. It's just…. Well, we all are."

"Indeed," Uncle Sirius said, utterly amused, from the sound of things. "Look, Harry, I'm not going to tell you what to do. It's not my job, and I reckon I wouldn't be very good at it if it were. I mean, I have a hard enough time telling Kitty what to do. And you look so like your father. Anyway, be careful. My daughter, she may only be eleven, but you know maybe better than I do the kind of spells she was practicing with her mum's wand before she got here. I wouldn't let pride get in the way of health and safety in this case."

Harry very nearly retorted that Uncle Sirius just wanted his daughter to win, but he caught himself before uttering the damning statement. Whatever Uncle Sirius believed about Harry's illicit activities, he didn't have any proof. Harry had to be careful not to hand up that proof on a silver platter.

"Ah, Peeves!" Uncle Sirius said cheerfully.

As much as Harry enjoyed the prank war, it was little things like this that told him he never really had a prayer of winning. That Uncle Sirius was on good terms with the school Poltergeist – and nobody else Harry knew could boast that – had to be a boost to Catherine's cause. At least once she'd sweet-talked Peeves into providing her with a solid alibi for her actions, something so airtight that Dumbledore himself seemed to believe that it couldn't possibly have been her.

As frustrating as it was to be opposed to someone with those kinds of connections, Harry had to admit to himself that he was a little bit impressed.

Just a little bit.

"I can't wait for the party to be over so we can get real food," Ron groaned, a little off-color. Harry and Neville led him hastily away from the rotted food.

No telling what Ron might do, hungry enough.

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Neville sat with Catherine as they waited for Professor Black to get bored talking with Peeves so they could get real food at the end of the party. She was smiling mildly, but Neville knew that she would be pouting if she weren't affecting the smile.

"Some party," he said jokingly.

Catherine snorted.

"Why did you come, then?" he asked. "You're not a Gryffindor. You don't even speak to Nick."

"No," she said, shrugging, stretching her arms listlessly. "But Daddy is, and I knew that making a good showing for Nearly-Headless Nick was important to him. Are you chatting with me to get information on our plans? Because it won't work."

Neville smiled and said, "Nah, that's Harry's obsession. It's fun, I guess, the prank war, but losing is a little exhausting."

"I can only imagine," she said, smirking. "Tell you what, Neville, since I'm hungry and therefore in a weakened and generous mood, I will give you one tiny clue. The Weasley twins."

"What about them?"

She smirked all the more and said, "And here you were telling me you weren't interested."

"You can't drop intriguing breadcrumbs and expect me to ignore them," he countered, "and you know it."

Catherine tossed her head back, shifting her silky brown plait over her shoulder.

"You want to know the secret to our upcoming plans, you get George Weasley to talk. If you can't do that, you lot are doomed."

And Neville fully suspected, after hearing that it was George and not Fred who held the key, that they were more or less doomed without even bothering to try.

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Catherine icing off her fingers, thinking that these cakes were the perfect punctuation for the perfect Halloween feast that made sitting through that terrible Death Day Party worthwhile. She'd met a few interesting ghosts, spent time with her father and Uncle Remus, and she even got the opportunity to mess with Neville's head about the Great Prank War. All in all, she would call that a Halloween well spent.

Harry watched her, amused, as she licked her fingers, wrinkling his nose playfully the way his mother did when she watched Catherine using such poor manners. Catherine's mother had given up long ago, knowing that Catherine's father would only indulge such misbehaviors.

"Now," her father said, pouring himself some more pumpkin juice, "I hope all of you learned something tonight." The students murmured that they had, and Catherine thought to herself, picking up another little cake that she had certainly learned that ghosts had the worst parties in the world. "And I hope you all enjoyed yourselves." The all nodded and murmured that they had, in fact, enjoyed themselves. Perhaps they all had, on various levels.

He glanced at Uncle Remus, who cleared his throat and said, "As we had suspected by inviting you all to this little gathering, there were no pranks at the Halloween feast."

Catherine's stomach dropped, and she focused pointedly on the cake she was chewing, not catching Harry's eye.

"As such," Uncle Remus continued, "we think it prudent to warn all eight of you that the prank war going on is out of hand. A little bit of fun is one thing, but we don't want any of you getting hurt from ill-planned or ill-timed pranks, and the bigger this gets, the more likely that becomes."

She knew he was looking right at her, but she wasn't meeting his gaze. Instead, she was looking at Neville very pointedly, whose ears had gone pink as he stared back at her, perhaps thinking that she was trying to push blame off on him by not looking at Harry.

As if she would try. Neither her father nor Uncle Remus was stupid enough to believe that Neville was the mastermind behind the Great Prank War. If she was lucky, if she played her cards right, she could get her father to believe that she was acting as a conduit for the Weasley twins, as had been arranged and agreed through George, and the first step was getting Neville to discuss the matter with George, which he would almost certainly do on Harry's behalf.

Small steps. That was what Harry had never understood about chess, about puzzles, about the bigger picture. It was seeing how all the tiny pieces worked together to form a complete picture that led to a satisfying end. The Great Prank War was out of her hands at this point. It had been picked up in the imaginations and greedy desires of the other students of Hogwarts, but she could escape the bulk of the blame for it if she played her first-year-innocent card well enough. As well-practiced in reading ahead as she might be, it would be nothing to suggest that the Weasley twins were the true masterminds of the project, using their baby sister and her closest friends to spread about their plans to avoid detentions.

"None of you is in trouble," her father said, with a sternness she'd never heard him use before, "but I want to impress upon you that if we do catch any one of you actively participating or inciting in this, you will be."

Catherine nodded, and silently told herself that it was a very good thing she wasn't going to get caught.

/-/

Luna and Rhea slipped into their dormitory that night in Ravenclaw Tower – accompanied back by Professor Lupin, who kindly answered the riddle that had puzzled both girls – and Luna whispered into the darkness, "Do you suppose Catherine knows what she's doing?"

She waited for the answer longer than she had expected, and she pulled back the covers on her bed.

Rhea whispered back, her voice soft in the darkness, softer than necessary just in case one of their roommates wasn't already asleep, "Kitty always knows what she's doing, and I consider it silly to suggest otherwise."

Luna supposed this meant that whether Catherine knew what she was doing or not, it wasn't smart to say out loud that she might not, even in a question. Having seen what Catherine's anger was capable of, Luna supposed this was a safe suggestion.

 **A/N: So, between this story and Part One (which got a new reviewer!), we've got enough reviews for a BONUS update today. So this is your standard weekly update, and another will follow shortly. Cheers, and thanks for your ongoing support!**

 **Review Prompt: Any guesses what Lucius's idea is?**

 **-C**


	27. Mrs Norris

Rhea frowned at her cousin, George, who was reading the letter she was giving him from Catherine. He nodded as he read it, burned it immediately, and blew away the ashes.

"What is it?" she asked him.

Catherine hadn't explicitly told Rhea not to read the letter, but she had a strong feeling that it was exactly what Catherine had expected of her.

"Better you not know," he said, wincing at her. "Plausible deniability. I'm due for a little chat with a fellow Gryffindor. Keep your nose clear for a day or so, will you?"

"Always do," Rhea whispered as he retreated, and she rubbed her temples, looking at the ashes that hadn't scattered when he blew at the stack. Whatever the letter was, Rhea suspected it was the information Catherine had decided George should feed Neville, which Neville would then certainly feed to Harry, which Harry would then act upon. To know what was in the letter, she would have only to watch what Harry Potter was up to, but then Rhea knew enough to recognize that Harry might not even do anything himself, the way Catherine was using her massive network of proxies.

There were just too many possibilities, and she went to the library where Luna was waiting for her to work on their Charms essays.

"Did you?" Luna asked, not looking up as Rhea sat down.

"Yeah," Rhea said, pulling out her textbook. "Have you found anything?"

"A bit," Luna said, scratching the end of her nose. "Weasley say anything about what was in it?"

"No. Didn't want me implicated. Say he passes this intel to Neville, who passes it to Harry, and Harry somehow doesn't act for himself. Who would he use?"

"Neville," Luna said. "He couldn't talk Hermione Granger into breaking rules for him, and Ron's not as good at magic. But it would depend on what sort of magic they're doing, and I suspect he'll do whatever it is for himself."

"Why?"

"Because he's impulsive," Luna said, finally looking up. "Catherine is calculating, and she keeps everything at least two steps away from herself, takes her time with things as much as possible. Harry, Harry tries to plan but he ends up knee-jerk reacting to whatever she maneuvers him to, which is why he's losing. He'll do whatever it is for himself. I'm eighty percent positive."

Rhea supposed this was a reasonable deduction, and she pulled out her barely-started essay, tickling her forehead with her favorite quill as she tried to decide which book she was going to use to support her information from their textbook. She thought about asking Luna was she was using, but she knew that Professor Flitwick expected them to use the same source and have the same information, and that it would seem too much like cheating. Instead, she looked for something that looked entirely too difficult to read and pulled it off the shelf, thumbing though it for information on Color-Change Charms, licking her lips as she saw how little there was.

This would be her source.

/-/

Aeson frowned, pausing at the doorway to his father's study, when he heard the voice of Uncle Sirius, who was supposed to be at Hogwarts. Aeson had been on his way to the kitchen to sneak some biscuits, but then he heard Uncle Lucius speaking, and he thought he'd be better served by listening in.

"I understand what you're saying, Lucius," Aeson heard his father say. He pressed his ear to the door. "But consider Sirius's point of view. Catherine is a child, and a very young child. She could be seriously injured."

"Would you prefer she be injured in a sanctioned school event with you and Severus overseeing it," Uncle Lucius said softly, coolly, "or in one of these foolish pranks she and her friends have been proliferating?"

Aeson heard a sigh and Uncle Sirius then said, "I'll consider it, Lucius. No promises. But you're right that I don't want something bad to happen without my knowing."

"We'll talk about this later," Aeson's father said, and the young boy decided to scurry to the kitchen before his father opened the door and found him listening at doorways.

He wondered, as he crept into the kitchen, what this plan was of Uncle Lucius's.

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Draco felt someone's eyes on him at lunch, and he looked across the Great Hall to where Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter where whispering to each other. He didn't catch either boy actually looking at him, but Draco was nearly certain he'd caught them looking at him and quickly looking away.

The question was, why were they looking at him?

It would be naïve to suppose that it didn't have something to do with the Great Prank War. The mess that had been tearing apart the castle was certainly down to the silly competitive feud between Catherine and Harry, and Draco had been able to more or less stay out of it. Now, however, he was beginning to feel a slight knotting in the base of his stomach.

Harry and Neville wouldn't bring him into things because they thought he would side with them. For one thing, they were in Gryffindor and Draco had pride to consider. For another, Draco knew better than to side against Catherine on anything. What was more, Catherine was his cousin, or second cousin at any rate, and family was family. His mother had impressed upon him the importance of supporting family.

Then again, did Harry believe that it was this mentality that would cause Draco to be drawn into Catherine's side of things?

Draco supposed this would not be the most impractical of assumptions, although he was smart enough not to be drawn into her games. To do things on her behalf was a dangerous business, whether done well or done poorly. The very last thing Draco needed in his life was a complication from trying to support Catherine in the messy web of this prank war. He didn't need Uncle Sirius's ire, for one.

He glanced to the Hufflepuff table, where Catherine was bent over a book. She seemed vulnerable, innocent, but Draco did notice that her back was not to the Gryffindors. She wasn't that stupid. She might not have been sitting with friends, but she did have that Cotton girl beside her, who seemed to be devoted to her.

She looked innocent, but Draco knew that he needed to be as wary of her as he was of Potter. Blows never came from Catherine directly, and any one of her friends could be one of her agents. And the trouble with a girl like Catherine was that she had so many friends, and even more lining up wanting to be her friend.

He scanned the Hufflepuffs, the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, and even glanced up the table to Adrasteia.

There was really no telling what direction it would come, but something was coming. Draco could feel it.

/-/

"Theoretically."

Hermione was beginning to hate that word, and she winced when Neville said it, smiling hopefully at her.

She knew full well that all the things she explained to Neville "in theory" were being put into practice by Harry or Ron or Neville in their silly prank war, but she didn't feel right simply telling them no.

"Yes, theoretically, it is possible," she said, sighing with exasperation. "And theoretically, that would be the spell to use, but you have to understand that it couldn't be done on a human. It's designed for an animal."

"Yes, we – I know," he said a little too quickly, his ears turning pink. Hermione narrowed her eyes, but she didn't ask. She told herself she didn't want to know.

She probably didn't, but she would find out soon enough, anyway.

"I have a History of Magic essay to finish," she said, wishing she didn't sound so stiff. She wasn't mad at him, really. She was mad at herself for not being firmer with all three of those boys, for not refusing to be a part of this mess.

He left her alone, and she felt a squirming sense of guilt.

/-/

Sirius poured a glass of firewhiskey and passed it to Severus before picking up his own glass and taking a long, healthy sip from it.

"So that is Lucius's grand plan," Severus said, turning the glass in his hands, frowning at Remus, who was setting down his empty glass. "I thought he could reach no new lows on meddling, but it would seem I was wrong."

"He does have a special talent for it," Sirius said, scratching his cheek. "Still, he might have a bit of a point. We could have used a better way to get out our cleverness and aggression as teenagers. Maybe we could have hexed each other in a proper way instead of between classes in corridors."

"I would like to point out that the offspring you and James have created are far more creative than either of you could have ever dreamed of being," Remus said sternly, frowning. "Our generation was just full of bullies. Kitty and Harry are a bit too…clever for that. Probably a bit too kind, too."

Severus snorted, but he didn't argue. Sirius sighed, rubbing his forehead. Why did this whole mess have to keep getting worse?

"So, tell me what it was Draco was complaining about, Severus," Sirius asked, knowing it wasn't really a change of topic, but clinging to it nonetheless.

/-/

Ginny raised her eyebrows at Colin, who had followed Harry after dinner. He nodded nervously, sitting down across from her.

"He went to the dungeons," he said, rubbing the sides of his head. "Stopover at Filch's office, like you thought he might. Is this Kitty Black's doing?"

Ginny narrowed her eyebrows and Colin sighed, recalling how he'd been told expressly not to ask that question. He nodded, rubbing the sides of his head again.

"D'you want to do our homework now?" he asked.

It wasn't that Colin had always disliked the Great Prank War. Sometimes, it was even fun, like being in some kind of spy film. Most of the time, though, he felt a little bit too much like a pawn to find it more than exhausting and a tiny bit demeaning. He didn't mind when he did research with Rhea Prewett, who always helped him with his homework as a kind of payment for his help, but Ginny and Catherine didn't give him anything in return for his services very often.

"Sure," Ginny said, shrugging. "Want to practice the Stinging Jinx?"

Colin winced again, but he nodded. It was only temporary, after all, and it only hurt for a little bit.

/-/

Pansy had been the first to notice it, and she felt mildly proud of herself for that. About an hour before dinner she noticed Mrs. Norris, Filch's terrible and creepy cat, following the Slytherin second years around, and after dinner she noticed her again out of the corner of her eye. At first Pansy had thought that the cat had caught the scent of something from dinner and had latched onto the smell, but she realized if that were true then the cat would spend most of her time at the kitchens, which she obviously did not.

Then she realized that Mrs. Norris was following someone, and as soon as she said it out loud Draco stiffened, separated from the group, and they all saw quiet plainly that the cat was following him.

And not in the usual, eerie way Mrs. Norris followed people, but as though she'd been Charmed to do it, sort of swaying like she was drunk or fighting against whatever it was that was compelling her to follow Draco.

"Potter," Draco had spat, giving his bag to Blaise and taking off toward the entrance hall, no doubt to confront Harry Potter.

"Why would Potter have Mrs. Norris follow Draco?" Pansy asked Daphne Greengrass, who was flipping aimlessly through her Charms book.

"Great Prank War," Daphne said, shrugging.

"Yes, but why Draco? Draco's stayed out of that sordid mess."

"Because Catherine Black is clever, that's why," Blaise said softly from the corner, and Pansy frowned at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn't at first, so she asked him what he meant, and he sighed, bored with the conversation already. He draped an arm casually over the arm of his chair and said, "She's clever, Pansy. She gets other people to do her dirty work, and she tricks Potter into pranking people who have nothing to do with it so he doesn't see the real blow coming. Somehow she's convinced Potter that Draco has something to do with her operations, and so Potter has used some spell at his disposal to get this pathetic prank done, and he's going to feel foolish when he learns he's wasted time targeting Draco while she's been implementing whatever her real attack is."

Pansy hummed and turned back to Daphne, who was still flipping through her book aimlessly. Catherine Black had a little bit of Slytherin in her, it would seem. The question was, what was Draco going to do in response?

/-/

Quickly but carefully, Dorcas flipped through the file Gideon had set in front of her on the kitchen table, eagerly examining the title of each failed bill, and each draft that never even made it that far. Bigotry didn't even begin to cover it. And in those bills would be signatures of people who had backed this, successfully or otherwise.

"You're sure this is everything?" she asked her brother-in-law in a low voice. "I need absolutely everything."

"Dorcas, if there's anything else the Ministry has on file about Dolores Umbridge, it's buried way above my paygrade and filed as something else," he said more solemnly than she'd ever heard him speak before. "Trust me, this is more than enough ammunition if you use it wisely."

She nodded, shutting it abruptly and standing, but he put a hand on hers and she met his anxious gaze.

"And I mean that, you know. Be damn careful about this, Dorcas. You're picking on the biggest fish you've ever gone angling for."

"Hardly," Dorcas said with forced levity. "As powerful and evil as Umbridge is, Gideon, she's nothing on Voldemort."

His face didn't laugh at her weak joke, and she assured him she would be careful, but they both knew the promise was a hollow one. Tackling such matters precluded caution.

/-/

The parlay was held in the corridor outside of the Fat Lady's portrait, but down the hall, slightly. There was no need, Harry decided, for the whole of Gryffindor to know his business.

"Let me get this straight," Draco said, frowning. "Catherine told Neville that if he was really interested in what was up to talk to Weasley's brother."

"George," Harry said with a nod.

"And he talked to Weasley's brother and he said that actually he and his twin were responsible for half the destruction, with the rest me framing Catherine or using Catherine."

"Yes."

"And you not only believed that you but you thought it would be intelligent to have Filch's bloody cat follow me around?" Draco finished, his startlingly pale cheeks turning ever-so-slightly pink. "I knew you were stupid, Potter, but this is new lows."

Harry frowned but he said nothing. How could he argue? Catherine played him and Neville like a bloody orchestra. The question was, what did he do now?

/-/

Harry was in a bad mood that night before bed, and Dean supposed it had something to do with the whisperings he had with Neville after coming back into the Tower. He'd had a talk with Malfoy, and then the little clique that had set themselves against Catherine Black and her clique took to whispering.

The Prank War, Dean thought, telling himself it was best to leave his interest and involvement there. He was curious, but he wasn't stupid.

/-/

While Harry hadn't managed to get Draco to side with him, he'd at least gotten a promise not to fight against him if it came to it, and that if a moment came when he had to choose sides he would remember Catherine's deviousness on this occasion when weighing his choices.

It wasn't much, but it was better than what Harry had feared that morning.

He was frustrated that she'd gotten the better of him, and he was nervous about what her big plan was that she'd distracted him from. Had he been getting too close, or had she simply enjoyed the opportunity to be certain he didn't get close at all?

Ideally, he would have a spy close to her, but he wasn't friendly enough with anyone in Hufflepuff to get too close, and all her friends in other Houses wouldn't let him near. Ginny was too clever to let Ron in, and it was clear from this that at least George Weasley was in her employ, and Harry was beginning to wonder if he could guarantee even Ron's loyalty in the long run. If she flattered him sufficiently, Ron would probably swap sides so fast his head would spin.

Neville. Neville was the only person Harry could actually trust, and suddenly Harry realized just how dire his position was in this whole mess. He wasn't just losing, he was being obliterated. It was slow but sure, his demise, and he couldn't see a way for the tide to turn, not unless she started making mistakes.

He'd never known her to do it, but Harry supposed that even Catherine Black was human. She was bound to make one sooner or later, and he could always be on defense until that began to happen. He could take advantage of that opening, should it arise.

Harry closed his eyes and took deep breaths, willing sleep, but he'd not slept properly since the Great Prank War began. He might not have friends in Hufflepuff, but she had friends in Gryffindor, and even sleep didn't seem safe most nights.

Tonight was no exception.

 **A/N: Catherine is playing chess, Harry is losing sleep, and the whole school is watching. See? It's like a power couple already! :D**

 **Review Prompt: If you had to be someone in one of their armies (without being Harry or Catherine), who would you be? I see myself as a Hermione, personally. I'd tell myself I wasn't really getting involved but really, we all know that's not strictly true.**

 **-C**


	28. Consequences

Ever since Harry, Ron, and Neville discovered that Catherine had led them down the rabbit hole trying to put Draco out of commission when he hadn't been involved in the first place, the boys had been living in fear that she would strike at any time. For two weeks, Ron had been checking over his shoulder ever two minutes, checking around each corner and doorframe just in case she or her friends lay in wait.

George thought this was hilarious, which Ron did not appreciate. Never mind that brothers were supposed to be supportive. Ron felt an irrational stab of anger that George had been part of the vehicle of their most recent embarrassment from Catherine's scheming.

"It's going to be soon," Hermione told Neville softly one day. "Ginny was whispering with Colin in the library today."

Even Hermione Granger was getting involved, Ron thought glumly. Surely this was the signal of a grand failure of their side of the battle, that Hermione was coming to them instead of the other way around. If Harry weren't so passionate about not giving up, Ron would have thrown in the towel about a week ago.

"What if she's planning to attack you on your way down to the Quidditch pitch?" Neville said, jerking his head up suddenly after a late-night planning session had led to him dozing while Harry and Ron played chess.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, looking up from the chessboard.

"Well, you're alone when you go down to practice and stuff," Neville said eagerly. "We're never with you. And with George on her side…."

Ron hadn't thought of that. It would be easy for George to set Harry up for some major fall. The question was, what could she do to him that would be grand enough for her tastes if she enacted it when he was heading down to practice?

"Maybe we're thinking about this wrong," Ron said softly. "What if she's planning to strike in a crowded space?"

"Why?" the other two chorused, interested.

Ron explained that there would be less likelihood of being caught in a crowded corridor, and yet still plenty of witnesses to the event in question so Harry couldn't find a way to undo whatever it was. She could melt away, maybe even act unseen, or through one of her many possible proxies. It would be nearly impossible to know who to guard against and when, especially during passing periods when everyone was too busy trying to remember the best ways to get to their classes.

Harry's eyes grew wider with every possibility, and finally he said, "Merlin, I hope she's planning to get me on the way to practice. At least then Wood would see that whatever it was got fixed quickly so we wouldn't jeopardize our chances at the cup this year. Even George wouldn't be stupid enough to threaten that right in front of Wood."

The boys decided that they would travel in a pack, even to the restroom, because three sets of eyes were clearly better than one.

/-/

Ginny sat down at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast and nodded toward the Head Table before saying, "Your dad's plotting something."

Catherine raised her eyebrows gracefully and said, "What makes you think that?"

Explaining it to Catherine was pointless, Ginny knew. It was a look in his eyes very similar to the one Catherine had when she was plotting something, usually something to do with the Great Prank War. Ginny's big concern was that it would be something that put an end to the war before the girls had managed a proper and irrefutable win.

"Just be careful," she said, glancing up to the Head Table where Professor Black was muttering something softly to Professor Snape. "Pass the marmalade."

Catherine passed it, not bothering to look up at the Head Table. Perhaps she had already seen what Ginny was pointing out, or perhaps she was not curious, or perhaps she was simply being discrete. Ginny spread marmalade on a slice of toast and contemplated their options, whatever the reasoning might be.

/-/

The spell wasn't perfected. Luna had said that to Catherine three times, and that was the very least of their problems that led to the first Great Incident. Luna had warned against attacks in crowds, knowing that Harry and his friends would retaliate, and the last thing anyone needed in the Great Prank War was to have an actual battle in the corridor, caught or not.

Still, Catherine took advantage of a particularly crowded corridor after lunch, on the marble staircase of all things, to attack Harry.

To Catherine's surprise, the boys were prepared for her, and Luna put up a quick and weak shield between Catherine and Neville's Petrification Charm. On a crowded staircase, that should have been the end of it, but naturally it was not. Harry and Catherine could not be satisfied, it seemed, with a simple exchange that no one won or lost.

Several spells darted back and forth on the staircase, and a few older students got in on the matter, until the whole of the staircase was descended into chaos.

Luna was used to chaos, and she had a highly trained eye, so she saw quite clearly that it was Catherine, and Catherine using the spell that wasn't perfect, missing her target by several people and hitting Colin Creevey.

Because the spell had been Luna's pet project, she blamed herself entirely. Yes, Catherine had used it when advised not to in a situation advised against, but Luna had known Catherine for several months, which was more than long enough to know that advice and Catherine were practically oil and water.

When he fainted on the stairwell, it was a very lucky thing Alicia Spinnet noticed him and cried out, otherwise Colin could have very easily been trampled to death before anyone realized he'd fallen. Luna was especially grateful that wasn't the case, as it was her unperfected spell that caused the fainting in the first place.

Technically, no one got in trouble for the chaos. No one could pinpoint anything to Catherine except for her best friends – who wouldn't – and Harry and his friends – who wouldn't dare. Luna was very nearly certain she was the only one who had seen Catherine hit Colin with the spell, and she certainly wasn't about to tell Albus Dumbledore that a spell she'd invented was poorly performed and nearly killed a friend of theirs who was actually on their side in the whole mess that was the Great Prank War.

Luna was one for honesty, but not suicide.

The girls gathered in the nearest girls' toilet and said nothing for a long moment as they took in the weight of Colin's being committed to the infirmary.

"Madam Pomfrey said he would be okay," Ginny said weakly.

Ginny and Rhea had visited his bedside immediately, as they spent the most time with him and thus could check on him without arousing suspicion of guilt.

"Well," Catherine said, a little unsure of herself for the first time since Luna had met her, "that's something."

And so it was, but Luna wished it were more.

/-/

Caroline flicked a bit of parchment at Jason from across the table as they listened to the murmuring of their mother talking to Auntie Dorcas in the next room. Neither child thought it could be interesting enough to listen in on in earnest, but that did not keep Caroline from being a little bit curious.

"What d'you suppose they're talking about?" she asked when Jason's nose twitched at the impact from the bit of parchment.

"Dunno. But they've been talking for two hours, so it must be important."

Caroline hummed. Important and boring. Adults never talked about anything interesting for so long. Only the boring things.

"We should write a letter to Daddy and Kitty," she said, trying to find something else for them to do. "We haven't written in a while, and we did promise."

"Kitty hasn't written either," Jason said with a shrug, but he got a fresh sheet of parchment, anyway. Caroline licked her lips at sat across from him as he fumbled around for an inkwell that wasn't their father's best ink, only to be used for his official documents.

Caroline wasn't entirely sure she knew what official documents were, but whatever they were, they were important enough to merit best ink.

/-/

Hermione sat down next to Ginny at dinner, which caused the red-haired girl to jump about a foot into the air.

"I'm not here to curse you," Hermione said, frowning. "I couldn't care less about this pranking mess. I just wanted to know about Creevey. Is he alright? Is he expected to make a recovery?"

Ginny blinked at her for a moment before she said, "Colin? Yeah, he's okay. He'll be unconscious for a day or two, but he'll be up again soon. Madam Pomfrey said he'll make a full recovery."

"Tell Catherine to be more careful next time," Hermione said, frowning, ignoring the way Ginny's eyes widened.

Hermione really didn't care to turn anyone in, just as long as it ended before anyone was seriously injured.

/-/

Ourania flipped through the discarded bits of parchment, holding them up to the light, licking her lips. She knew she really shouldn't, but she grabbed a pencil from her sister's sketchbook and art supplies and carefully ran the pencil tip over the parchment to reveal what had been written on top of the discarded pieces.

The words didn't mean anything particular to her, but they sounded important.

 _Request for Immediate Dismissal_

/-/

Almost as soon as Neville sat down across from her in the common room, Hermione said, "Absolutely not."

She did not have to look up from her book to know that he was startled by her firm refusal before even hearing what his request was. The truth was, she didn't need to hear to know. He wanted information from having seen her talk to Ginny, or he wanted her hypothesis on what the spell was that Catherine accidentally hit Colin Creevey with, or he wanted an idea for a counterattack safe to use in a public place. He would say "theoretically" and Hermione would begin to feel that she had to answer because she knew the answer, and all it would do would be to escalate a mess that was already incredibly out of hand.

"I don't want to do anything, theoretical or otherwise, that leads to first years' in the hospital wing."

She did finally glance up and saw that Neville was shifting uncomfortably, his ears quite pink. Granted, Harry and Neville and Ron were not directly responsible for the landing of Colin Creevey in the infirmary, but if Harry weren't so stubborn about continuing to fight a war he'd already all but lost, Catherine Black would have no reason to keep seeking out new ideas to drive them mercilessly into the ground, and Hermione's involvement simply allowed the boys to keep going well past when they likely would have stopped.

"I was just going to ask if you'd heard anything about Creevey," he said sheepishly. "I saw you talking to Ginny, and I figured you'd ask. It's really not…appropriate for me to ask, considering."

Hermione hummed, frowning at him. She inhaled deeply, letting him sweat out the answer for several moments before finally telling him that Colin Creevey was expected to make a full recovery from…whatever it was.

Neville murmured that this was very good news, and his ears turned more red than pink, and Hermione knew that he'd intended to ask her advice on something as well, but she gave him a stern look that warned him off trying to ask.

She did feel bad for him. He was caught in a bit of a spot, with his loyalty to Harry. She understood wanting to help his friend, because it was the only reason she'd indulged him as long as she had. But she couldn't continue like this. The Great Prank War was no longer just pranks and harmless cleverness. Hermione was quite certain that if Alicia hadn't noticed Colin fall, he could have easily died and no one would have known until the corridor had cleared from the chaos.

Sheer luck. A boy's life was down to sheer luck, and that thought made Hermione feel slightly sick.

"I have to get this essay done," she said, although it wasn't due for several days.

"Right," Neville said, not bothering to look and see what she was working on. "I'll leave you to it, then. Erm, thanks, Hermione."

She hummed in response, not wanting to tell him he was welcome. She was still quite cross about her role in the whole mess, and while she could have told him no at any time, it was easier to blame him for her role than to blame herself.

Hermione flipped rapidly through pages when Neville stalked back to where Harry and Ron were sitting, near the fireplace, gathered around a chess board. She wasn't even sure what book she had open, so great was her frustration and inner turmoil. All she wanted was for the guilt to go away, just long enough to get her homework done.

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Lily stirred the potion with one hand and rubbed her forehead with the other. Ever since her latest chat with Gideon about Dorcas, she was getting increasingly worried that Dorcas was going to start calling in favors. She didn't mind what Dorcas might ask of her. Anything needed, Lily would gladly give. It was a question of what she might ask of the Blacks, because there was no telling what Sirius might give. Lily really didn't know everything of what had happened that night so many years ago, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"How's it coming?" James asked, setting a cup of tea down on the far side of the room, away from the workbench. "Ready for a test run this moon, or will it have to wait for the next one?"

"Next one," she sighed. "Have we gotten another letter from Gideon, or are we going to have to pay him a visit?"

"D'you really think it's necessary?" he asked, scratching his cheek. "If we haven't heard from him in a day or so I'll write again, but you know he's busy."

Lily hummed her acknowledgement and ignored the tea while she finished the last stirring cycle. It wasn't that she didn't want James to be right and for everything to work out alright on its own, but she'd known the people involved for too many years to hope for the best.

"I reckon we could start looking into things for her," Lily said. "Just discrete inquiries. Just in case."

"I'll stock up on crystallized pineapple," James sighed, kissing Lily's cheek. "Just in case, indeed."

/-/

Hermione wasn't much for sneaking around in the middle of the night, but she had to see him for herself. She had Neville sneak her the cloak Harry had, saying he was going to sneak to the kitchens. She swore up and down she'd have it back before the clock even struck midnight, but Neville said it was fine, that she could bring it back in the morning.

So Hermione crept into the hospital wing, where there were two students. One was an older Ravenclaw girl by the window, the other Colin Creevey, by the door, where Madam Pomfrey would be able to attend him more easily if he needed anything. The girl, Hermione decided, was likely contagious, which was why they put her on the far side of the room.

His breathing was fine, although he was still quite pale. Hermione wondered what exactly had been done to him, but she knew that whatever it was hadn't worked properly. She had read all about misplaced curses and jinxes, and she could recognize the signs a mile off. Hermione had even thought of asking Professor Lupin about it, but she didn't want to think about what might come of her asking that sort of question.

Satisfied that he was alright, she went back to Gryffindor Tower, ignoring that the darkness made the place feel different, almost terrible. The last time she'd gone sneaking about after dark, she'd been with the others and it had been the failed duel that led to mass detention. Hermione wondered what would happen if she were caught with Harry's cloak. Would Professor Black or Professor Lupin hold on to it for him, or return it to his father?

She felt enormously guilty and hurried her steps, not thinking about what kind of noise she might make. When she got to the Tower she slipped into her dormitory, slipped off the cloak, and folded it very carefully. She wrapped it in a blanket she'd borrowed from Ron to study after the fire had gone out one night, and she went up to the boys' dormitory and knocked on the door.

"C'min!" Neville's voice said.

Hermione poked her head in and saw that he was reading in the corner by candlelight, the other boys presumably asleep in their beds. She slipped the cloak out of the blanket and he nodded, taking both from her.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, smiling at her in the candlelight.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, not exactly lying, but knowing he didn't really want to know the whole truth. She thanked him again and went out the way she came, shivering slightly. Hermione suspected he'd only gotten the cloak to her to make up for how he'd been using her for furthering Harry's ends in the Great Prank War, but that was alright. Hermione knew that Neville meant well, just like he knew that she was only trying to do the right thing when she said that she wasn't going to keep giving them help with their silliness.

Water under the bridge.

 **A/N: Why the update? I just turned 25 last night. Seemed a good way to mark the occasion. :D I thought about updating other stories as well, throughout the week, see if I can make this a birthday week to remember. Keep your eyes peeled if you're a fan of some of my other work.**

 **Review Prompt: How much d'you think it'll take for the Great Prank War to end?**

 **-C**


	29. The Dueling Club

The first person to see the announcement on the bulletin board was Hermione, and she immediately told the people she knew would find it the most interesting: Harry, Neville, and Ron.

"Dueling Club?" Harry said eagerly, running his hands nervously through his hair. Hermione wondered if he knew how silly he looked when he did that. "Who's running it, d'you think?"

"The notice didn't say," Hermione said, shrugging. "There are a few possibilities. Professor Flitwick was supposed to be something of a champion duelist in his day."

"Really?" the boys chorused, stunned.

Hermione nodded and said, "And then there's the teachers who got Orders of Merlin during the war."

Harry really took notice at this and said, "Really? Who's that?"

Hermione pulled out a book she'd gotten for a History assignment, and she flipped to the list of those persons who had achieved Orders of Merlin in the war against Lord Voldemort. The three boys leaned over it, awed.

"Wow," Neville breathed. "Harry, your parents are on this list! Second class."

"Yours are here, too," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall. And there's Rhea's parents, first class."

"Well, her dad's an Auror," Ron said, shrugging. "Uncle Gideon's here too. Look, Hagrid!"

"Oh, look," Neville said. "Snape's got one. First class. Lupin, first class. And look at the list of Blacks."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She'd been considering that portion of the list as well, considering that Sirius Black, Cara Black, and the deceased Regulus Black all earned the Order of Merlin, First Class during the war, and as far as Hermione could find, their actions were largely unknown. So much was still unknown about the war.

"So realistically," Harry said, "it doesn't seem likely to be McGonagall, does it? So that leaves Uncle Remus, Uncle Sirius, and Snape. I reckon it's probably not Snape."

"Why?" Hermione asked coolly.

"Well, he's a Potions Master, isn't he?" Ron said, as though this obviously precluded Professor Snape from knowing how to duel. "I reckon he barely even uses his wand."

"Shows how much you know," Hermione said stiffly. "According to Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape was an accomplished duelist as well. We'll just have to go to the first meeting and see who it is, won't we?"

Neville nodded, closing the book carefully and handing it back to Hermione with a thoughtful expression.

She wondered how Harry and Neville could not know that their parents had earned such a prestigious award during the war. Neville's parents were Aurors, but Harry's weren't. Hermione wondered what they had done, how they had earned their awards, and she wondered if Harry was going to ask his parents about it.

More importantly, she wondered what they might say. Sometimes adults kept secrets, even big secrets, for a reason, and Hermione couldn't help but think of the name Cara Black on the list, the name of Catherine's mother who was known as a largely magic-less society wife, and wonder what on earth could have gone on during that war.

To her, that was infinitely more interesting than who was going to be coaching the dueling club.

/-/

Remus sat down with Severus, knowing they really ought to be having a talk with Sirius, but too afraid of his best friend's reaction.

"He doesn't see it because he doesn't want to," Severus said calmly. "He was something of a bully himself, if you recall."

"Kitty's not a bully," Remus said tightly. "This is nothing like that. She doesn't pick on the weak, she picks on Harry."

"Comparatively, he is weak."

Remus waved off this unfortunately true statement and he said, "Colin Creevey was an issue of crossfire.

"The boy could have died," Severus said, bored.

Remus's nostrils flared, and he said, "You haven't turned her in or disciplined her either, and I know it's not some feeling of loyalty on your part."

Severus's neck stiffened for a moment before he set down his tea and said, "Lupin, Catherine Black is a very talented student. And whatever mistakes she makes she cleans up after her messes. What she needs is not censure, but proper training. I believe Sirius believes that s well, because whatever he won't admit to himself, he's set up this dueling club nonsense. The least we can do, as his friends and as her teachers, is to support this decision and see if we can't teach her control and decorum."

"Doubtful," Remus said. "She is her father's daughter."

"She's also her mother's daughter," Severus said softly. "And Potter is also his mother's son. They're not hopeless."

/-/

The first day of the dueling club, Severus, Sirius, and Remus watched the students file in casually, watching from the back room attached to the Great Hall, behind the Head Table. Potter and his friends showed up, Draco and Blaise Zabini showed up, and Catherine had dragged her whole set as well. Severus frowned to himself, wondering whether some kind of chaos would result in the club. He decided that they would have to keep eyes on the various factions at all times, just in case.

"We should announce ourselves," Sirius muttered, as the students gathered around the raised platform Dumbledore had created for the club. "Shall I?"

Severus and Remus nodded, and they followed Sirius out onto the platform. Severus ignored the whispers of students as they saw these three professors come out as the heads of the club, and he glanced at Catherine, whose eyes widened with delight.

"Hello, everyone!" Sirius said cheerfully. "Since you all have such an appetite for using magic outside of class," he paused to allow for nervous laughter from the students, "we decided the best thing to do would be to give you a safe, observed environment where you can learn more magic, and particularly about Dueling. As some of you know, although many of you don't, Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, and I all fought in the war against Voldemort, and having good dueling skills was a critical factor in our success and survival."

Severus tried not to raise an eyebrow at this. In truth, he felt that their dueling abilities took the back burner to their ability to lie and to maneuver circumstances. Their main trade was information, not brute force.

"So," Sirius said, clapping his hands. "We're going to begin with basic rules, alright? Professor Snape, shall we demonstrate appropriate etiquette for beginning a duel?"

Severus inclined his head slightly and said, "With pleasure."

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Sitting in her father's study, Cora curled up with a book, sunlight streaming through the window. She glanced up to see the little bits of dust in the stream of sunlight. Some people found such things gross, but Cora thought it was sort of beautiful. She equated dust with books, and sunlight, and those were her two favorite things.

She turned over the things Ourania had told her that morning, and she wondered if she should be very worried about their mother. Uncle Gideon said not, but Cora wasn't sure she believed him. He'd been very sullen of late, and the last time Cora saw him he'd been whispering with her father, and he'd gone very pale at something.

Cora looked back down at her book, frowning. She wondered if adults ever realized how much the children saw, and how much they could understand, even without details. She didn't feel insulted like Ourania clearly did. After all, there were a lot of things on their father's mind, and the other adults as well. She didn't feel like they were trying to make her feel small. They probably just didn't want her to worry, and didn't think about how much she saw or understood.

Perhaps she would take a look through some papers after lunch, she thought grimly, just to see if Ourania was right.

/-/

Harry licked his lips, watching as Uncle Sirius and Snape crossed to opposite ends of the raised platform, and Uncle Remus came to the center.

"Now, when two wizards duel," Uncle Remus said, "they are expected to show each other courtesy. Dueling is an ancient art, between gentlemen, and it demands respect. Like with any sport or competition, you are expected to follow all rules. Anyone in this club not following rules will be expelled from the club immediately. Now the first step is for the two wizards – or witches – to face each other."

The two men, who had been facing the crowd, turned to face each other. Harry realized they must have arranged this in advance.

"And then they bow to each other. This is a sign of respect, and a way to be certain everyone is ready, on the same page."

The two men bowed, although Harry thought it seemed to be a bit painful for them. Catherine was watching from across the way with incredibly bright eyes.

"And then they allow each other to come to the ready. In competition, up to a certain level, the duelists must wait for someone to tell them to cast their spells, and above that level they must decide for themselves. For our demonstration today, they'll do a simple Disarming, and they'll decide when to cast."

Harry, like most of the room, held his breath as Uncle Remus stepped out of the way.

/-/

Delia poured herself another glass of wine and pretended not to listen to the quiet conversation her husband was having with Dorcas Prewett on the far side of the room. They knew she was listening, so she didn't feel guilty at all. This was simply how things were done. If they'd not wanted her to know anything, they wouldn't have allowed her to hear.

"You are asking a great deal of me, Dorcas," Rabastan said darkly. "What makes you think it is in my interests to help you?"

"I already have a guarantee that Sirius will if you don't," Dorcas said smoothly, her voice all confidence that a woman from such a lesser family should never have, in Delia's opinion. "Think about what that would do to him, to his family, should he have to call in that kind of capital. He has an awful lot of things to be dug up, Rabastan. The world already knows or suspects your dirty laundry."

Delia perked up at this, wondering what Sirius had to lose. There was a great deal about the war that Delia still didn't know, but that whole set stayed so tight-lipped about it, including Rabastan. Delia was not so indelicate as to ask questions, but her curiosity burned.

"You would threaten my sister?" Rabastan asked softly, more dangerous than she'd ever heard him.

Cara was a sweet woman, kind and refined, and Delia thought she was rather good company, but she had never understood the extreme bond between her husband and his half-sister, the bond that tied them so tightly to the Blacks, to the Malfoys, to the likes of Severus Snape and the Prewetts.

The secrets were numerous.

"You know I don't want any distress for her," Dorcas said, softening slightly. "But this needs to be done, Rabastan. You have the power to keep the Blacks out of this altogether. Why wouldn't you?"

Delia did not have to look at her husband's face to know his expression, to know what he would be thinking, what he would answer.

/-/

Harry was in awe. Uncle Sirius and Snape were quick, blocking and dodging each other's spells with ease. To know that each were only using one charm, one spell to attack – in a manner of speaking – would have struck Harry as boring that morning, but there was nothing boring about this. He had to remind himself to breathe as he watched, and when Snape finally disarmed Uncle Sirius, to Catherine's audible cry of disappointment, Harry was surprised to hear Uncle Sirius let out a bark of laughter, pulling himself to his feet, catching his wand as it was tossed back to him.

"Couldn't even let me win in front of my daughter, could you?" he teased, and many of the students laughed.

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Pansy spread her books out over the table in the corner of the common room, Daphne Greengrass across from her. The two girls were trying to accomplish something while the common room was quiet. Most of the rowdy boys who distracted them from their work had gone to the Great Hall for the dueling club meeting.

"I don't see what's so great about dueling," Pansy said, sniffing. "Such a waste of energy if you ask me."

Daphne hummed as she flipped through an encyclopedia of plants slowly.

/-/

Uncle Sirius brushed himself off in an exaggerated fashion and said to the room, "Obviously, Professor Snape and I have done this many times. In case you were wondering, he beats me virtually every time."

Catherine seemed surprised when Harry looked across at her, and he had to admit to himself that he was feeling a bit surprised as well. He knew that Snape was a talented wizard, but he'd never really thought about him as a duelist. Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus, sure, but they were like superheroes.

"Now," Uncle Remus said, "the things we teach you are for this club and for use in practical exams for my class only. I want you all to sign a disclaimer that you will not use your dueling skills outside of those circumstances except in an event of danger to your immediate safety. If you do not sign one of these disclaimers, you will not be allowed to come back to the dueling club."

Several of the older students in the back slipped out at these words, obviously not interested in such restrictions, but to Harry they seemed reasonable. The Great Prank War was looming over all of them, and no sane professor would give the students further fodder for their battles. This was supposed to be a substitute, not a training ground.

Another demonstration, this time of Shield Charms, was done briefly, between Professor Snape and Uncle Sirius again, and the forms were distributed. Harry read his over and considered the opportunities he might have to break this promise. Would he trust himself to withstand the temptation to use his dueling training in a prank war?

Harry glanced up at Uncle Sirius and realized that he would have to withstand that temptation. He didn't want to let his godfather down, and he would hate missing out on the club because he knew he would be tempted. They would all be tempted, and yet he could see Catherine pressing her form to Luna Lovegood's back so she could sign it on the spot.

If she could sign it, so could he.

"Turn round," he muttered to Ron, gesturing to Neville for a quill, who quickly got one ready. "I trust you'll all be signing as well," he added to them, almost as a threat.

Ron and Neville both assured him that they would, and Hermione Granger beamed at them as though this form was some great commitment in their lives.

Harry thought it ought to be, that for the adults it meant something intense and important, but for Harry all it meant was that he wasn't missing out on something Catherine was willing to sign for.

Once they turned in their forms, Harry got a proud smile from Uncle Sirius, and they joined those who had already turned in their forms – or not – and began filing out of the Great Hall with the promise of another meeting in a week's time.

"Well," he heard Draco say, coming in close, "I see we're all involved. I expect you're hoping for an opportunity to put Catherine Black in her place."

"Aren't you?" Harry asked, trying not to frown. He didn't want to seem worried or weak. He was a bit, though. Could he hurt Catherine in front of her father? Would that feel right?

"I'm not stupid enough to think I actually could," Draco said with a smirk. "Have a pleasant day, Potter."

/-/

Neville slipped into the bathroom after Harry that night before bed and locked the door behind him – something they didn't do in their dormitory without very good reason. Harry raised his eyebrows with question and Neville felt his stomach flip with nerves.

"They're planning something big," he said softly. "Whatever spell she used that hurt the Creevey boy, it wasn't right, it wasn't ready. Kitty's coming after you, you know. She's looking for an irrefutable win."

"No," Harry said darkly, rinsing off his toothbrush. "No, Neville, she's looking for surrender, and she's not going to get it. I'm going to show her that there's one person in her life who doesn't just give he what she wants because she bats her eyelashes or pouts or humiliates. I'm going to stand strong."

Neville frowned and thought about pointing out the fact that Catherine had essentially won, that there wasn't any strong left to stand, but he held his tongue. Harry was too stubborn to hear it, and Draco's comments in the Great Hall hadn't helped Harry's frame of mind at all. Whatever happened, whatever she was planning, Neville knew that they had some time to plan, to shore up, to mount a preliminary or even a counter-attack, but if Harry couldn't step back from his emotional responses, they would be doomed. Catherine would win before she struck another blow.

/-/

Catherine practiced the new wand motion Luna had taught her, running it over in her mind as she let her wrist follow it several times.

"You're quite certain?" she prompted her friend. "We can't risk another incident like with Colin."

"I would practice it on something non-human first," Luna said. "Like some of the birds on the grounds or something. Maybe Hagrid has a pest you could practice on? But we've got time to be sure we're getting it right before using it on people."

Catherine hummed, but she wasn't so sure. Harry wasn't going to just sit around and wait for her to come for him. She would have to start practicing right away.

 **A/N: So, our trio of professors have begun a Dueling Club. ;) The Great Prank War rages on. And Dorcas is side-stepping Sirius and going for some other strings to pull.**

 **Review Prompt: Of our trio of professors…. Boxers or briefs?**

 **-C**


	30. Unspoken

At breakfast, Ginny sat with the girls at the Hufflepuff table. She buttered her toast happily, listening to Luna discuss with Catherine the spell that had been causing them so much trouble.

"Technically speaking," Catherine said, "the pigeons were fine."

"Unconscious isn't my definition of fine," Rhea chimed in, and Catherine glared at her.

Luna tapped her cheek and said, "Well, it does depend, I suppose. Sometimes the body puts itself into a state of unconsciousness as a form of self-protection. So relatively speaking…"

She trailed off and shrugged, and Ginny winced. She didn't personally believe that there was anything fine, relatively or otherwise, about being unconscious, but she supposed that it could be that they were pigeons. Pigeons weren't humans, so maybe it was their bodies that couldn't handle the stresses of the spell, and humans would be fine.

"They made a full recovery," Catherine said, shrugging.

"Yes," Luna said, "but we cannot ignore that this was what happened to Colin Creevey. More or less."

"And Colin's fine," Catherine argued.

"He wasn't," Ginny said softly. "He is now, but he could just as easily not have been. Kitty, can't we just focus on spells we can do for now? You've got Harry where you want him. There's no reason to invent a new spell before Christmas in order to bring him to his knees."

Although Ginny had made this argument to herself, in her head, several times over the past week, she hadn't dared say it out loud. Since signing the paperwork for the dueling club, Catherine had become increasingly intent upon the spell Luna was developing, thinking that the sooner she ended the Prank War with a grand victory, the sooner she could focus her efforts on the dueling club and beating Harry legitimately in front of the whole school. Ginny supposed it had something to do with impressing her father, since the Great Prank War would only disappoint him.

Colin didn't have any grudges against Catherine for what happened, and he knew well enough she was the one who put him in the hospital wing. Whatever his reasons for being gracious about the whole thing, he hadn't turned on them, and he was still eager to help. Ginny suspected that he had some kind of desire to have friends that overcame his perfectly natural fear and possible resentment at such an incident.

"Just do what you're supposed to, Ginny," Catherine said darkly. "I hold up my end of the bargain, you hold up yours. Deal?"

Ginny bit the inside of her lip, frustrated. She knew her friend was used to getting what she wanted and being in charge, and usually Ginny didn't mind. Sometimes, though, it drove Ginny mad, the presumption of this girl. As though Rhea and Luna and Ginny were somehow lesser, somehow less intelligent or powerful or capable. Usually Catherine was fine, but sometimes things went poorly and Catherine seemed to have this kind of switch where she would turn into what Ginny's worst nightmare of a pureblooded brat was.

Like Catherine's cousin, she supposed, Adrasteia Lestrange.

"I suppose I'm going to have to wait a bit longer," Catherine said, deflating slightly as she realized that she was being, perhaps, a bit unreasonable. "We'll need to test on something other than pigeons. What's your progress with Hagrid, Luna?"

"He says there may be some mice that aren't of use to anybody," Luna said, piling more kippers onto her plate. "Mammals, at least, although I would have preferred pigs. Or monkeys."

Rhea raised her eyebrows and said, "Luna, there aren't any monkeys or pigs at Hogwarts."

"No, I suppose you're right," Luna said, as though this thought had never occurred to her. "Well, we can make do with mice. Shall I make an appointment with him?"

"Do," Catherine and Ginny chorused, sharing a grim look over their plates.

The sooner they could perfect this bloody spell, Ginny realized, the sooner it was all over.

/-/

Rhea sat down in Potions with Luna and whispered, "D'you think Kitty will make us go to the dueling club forever?"

"I doubt it," Luna said, unconcerned. Very little obviously concerned Luna, and Rhea admired this about her new best friend. "When she wins the war, she'll lose interest in the strange forced togetherness. You know she only wants us around as a show of solidarity."

"Well," Rhea said, frowning.

Luna nodded and said, "Alright, she does enjoy having us around. But the way she's clinging. You understand."

Rhea did understand. Catherine was not an insecure person, and Rhea would never dare suggest such a thing, even in her own mind, but there was something about the eagerness to win the Great Prank War that exhibited itself in Catherine clinging to her friends in ways that almost didn't make sense.

"Shall I get the ingredients today?" Luna asked mildly.

So many of her questions were mild. This was another thing that Rhea admired about Luna. She could say almost anything without offending anyone. Rhea had so few examples of this skill in her life, and she appreciated it so thoroughly.

"Sure," she said. "I'll heat the cauldrons."

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Zacharias Smith was not stupid. He knew who to befriend to help him on his way in life, and as much as it pained him, the number one person who would make his life better wanted nothing to do with him: Catherine Black. It was very clear to him that she would be the female Prefect for Hufflepuff in their year, and it made sense to him that he would be the male prefect. In fact, he wouldn't be terribly surprised if she made Head Girl, and if he wanted to make Head Boy, he had to prove that he could get along with her.

Of course, he had to prove he could make her speak to him longer than twenty seconds first, but he was confident. Small steps.

They had years to go, really. Still, small steps now would pay dividends later.

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"What are we doing for Christmas, Mum?" Aeson asked, sitting across from his mother in the second floor sitting room, where she was doing a bit of reading. It was one of those books without the title on the cover, which he had long ago determined were utterly boring, even when they weren't off-limits.

"We are having dinner with the Malfoys," she said smoothly, "and your father is spending the evening with us and going to run some errands after Christmas dinner."

Aeson frowned. He wasn't sure why his father would have to run errands on Christmas, and from the way his mother said it, she wasn't pleased about whatever it was. He knew better than to ask.

/-/

Before lunch, many Hufflepuff students put away the books from the morning so they didn't have to carry around a day's work of books all afternoon. For the first and second year Hufflepuffs, they had Thursday afternoons off, so they would scope out key areas in the common room for study before their older counterparts finished their day and began to kick them out. Zacharias grabbed a spot in the coolest corner of the room, where he could see both the entrance and the pathway into the dormitories easily.

A small band of second-year students sat in the corner nearest the dormitories, and Catherine Black lounged on a sofa in the middle with a tired-looking Ryana Cotton. It was a scene that played out nearly identically every week on Thursday afternoons, but something felt different to Zacharias, and he only pretended to read his work as he wondered and waited.

He didn't have to wait terribly long. Catherine Black was practicing a wand movement that Zacharias didn't recognize from where she lounged, but she wasn't saying an incantation. Ryana was reading her book, perhaps working on homework, and it was when one of the second year boys – Justin Finch-Fletchley – stood up to go into his dormitory after something, that something bizarre happened.

Without speaking, without moving her lips, without even any obvious intent to cast a spell, Catherine Black's wand motion pointed at Justin, and he gasped loudly before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Catherine dropped her wand, startled, and several students near Justin stood up abruptly, as Zacharias did, to see better.

"Is he okay?" Ryana squeaked as Hannah Abbot knelt over her friend, rolling him carefully over.

"Is he dead?" Ernie Macmillan asked.

Zacharias wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. Ernie was important, someone to please, so Zacharias watched his tongue around him.

"Apart from being unconscious, I can't see anything obviously wrong with him," Hannah said nervously. "But we should get a teacher. Who cursed him?"

Several people turned to look at a concerned Catherine, who said quickly, "I didn't mean to even do a spell. I didn't say anything! I didn't…. I don't even know what I did!"

That last bit was a lie, and Zacharias knew it. He suspected many of the other students didn't believe it as well, but they could all tell quite plainly that she was genuinely confused and concerned, and so he didn't have to guess if someone would throw her under the bus on the lie: as far as they were concerned, teachers didn't have to know she had told any lies in her report.

Hannah sent Susan Bones to find a teacher, or Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pomfrey came straight away, checking his vitals, conjuring a stretcher for him and floating him out of the common room on it. She gestured for Hannah, Ernie, Susan, and Catherine to follow her, perhaps to speak to Professor Sprout, or even Professor Dumbledore, about what had happened.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the whispering started. Several of the girls were talking about whether Catherine had known whatever spell she was thinking of was dangerous, and if so what she had been practicing the motion for. It certainly wasn't anything she was learning either for class or the dueling club.

Zacharias was too busy burning with jealousy that she had accidentally performed nonverbal magic.

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"What do you mean you have to leave early after Christmas dinner?" Damon heard his father his at his mother in the dining room. Damon was supposed to be outside, but it was far too cold, and he really wanted to color.

"Rabastan and I decided it's the only day to be sure we can get what we need with minimal intrusion."

"Rabastan," Damon's father growled.

"Stop that. You know what we owe him, what he's done."

"He did none of it for you and me, dove. Everything he has done that has ever been worth something was because of his sister, plain and simple. I'll bet she's the only reason he's agreeing to help you now, isn't she?"

Damon lifted his head, curious to hear what his mother's response was, but whatever she said, it was too soft for him to hear. Slightly disappointed, he let his head drop again and drew a small flock of birds at the top of his page. He liked birds. They always seemed so purposeful and wise. They even made standing on Muggle power lines look regal. Damon had a great appreciation for regal-looking creatures. Something about how certain species just always held themselves with confidence and self-importance. He saw the doorknob turn and he scurried away so as not to be caught indoors.

/-/

Ryana watched Catherine pace slightly before sitting down.

"So, he's okay?" she asked the dark-haired girl, trying not to shiver as she recalled the way Justin just collapsed in the middle of the common room.

"Madam Pomfrey said he was okay, yeah," Catherine said, running her fingers though her hair and tossing it back over her shoulder with a slight flick of her wrist.

"And you're not in trouble?"

Catherine hummed that she was not, in fact, in trouble.

For the moment, Ryana reminded herself silently. Until the next person got hurt.

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Draco and Blaise face each other across their dormitory, following the niceties of dueling together, the bowing and pacing and raising of the wand arm, hoping that by internalizing the motions now, they would move forward on the actually dueling more quickly.

"Do you think they'll do a tournament?" Blaise asked blandly.

"Maybe not the first year," Draco said reasonably, "but eventually they would have to. That's really the only logical thing about having a dueling club at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

"Who would win, do you think?"

"Depends," Draco said. "If they let all the grades in together, probably the upperclassmen. If they separated it, it would be harder to say."

Blaise pursed his lips and nodded. They key was, they didn't want to duel each other, but neither dared say something so silly out loud.

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Catherine stared at the ceiling trying to remove the guilty feeling in the base of her stomach. She didn't know what was worse, the way she felt about what she'd done to Justin without ever meaning to do it, or the fact that she hadn't felt guilty about nearly killing Colin Creevey attempting that same spell.

There was no reason for her to feel guilty about one thing and not the other, and yet she felt sick to her stomach now, and it hadn't bothered her at all that Colin had been hurt, not at the time.

Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe Catherine had taken Colin for granted, taken advantage of him. She'd never meant to, but she supposed she was so focused on her end goal that she'd barely seen all the mess that had risen up as a result of the spells she was doing, the final goal of making Harry surrender.

Perhaps worse than all of that, though, was that she had accidentally performed surprisingly difficult magical acts, and she couldn't even tell her father about it without starting a conversation about what spell she'd been thinking about in the first place that had caused Justin to be rendered unconscious. Catherine knew that probably wouldn't be the worst thing for other people she knew, but for her it was definitely the worst thing she could think of in the whole mess.

She supposed she could work on adding footnotes or something to her History of Magic essay. There had to be some other way to impress he father without discussing things she wasn't supposed to be doing. Catherine turned over her options in her mind, not noticing how her worries melted away when her mind was occupied with more productive things. If only all guilt were so easy to melt away, but Catherine was still young, and even her greatest moments of guilt were nothing compared with that which plagued some of the adults in her life.

She climbed out of bed, flipping through her things for her History of Magic essay. She could add another half foot, she was certain.

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James put the kettle on as soon as he heard Lily Apparate at the end of the walk. He stretched and tried to decide whether or not to tell her about the letter that arrived from Rabastan Lestrange. When he heard her open the front door, he decided things could only go poorly for him if he didn't mention it.

"Hello, love!" he called out. "You've a letter, and the kettle's on. Would you like a ham sandwich?"

"Yes, please," she said, pulling off her scarf as she walked into the kitchen. "A letter from whom?"

"Lestrange," he said, tossing the letter onto the table and not looking at her. No doubt her expression would say all sorts of things she didn't want it to. He thought it would be politer to pretend he didn't know that the letter was important. "I was thinking mint. Do you want something else?"

Lily started, then jerked her head up as he turned to look at her.

"Hmm?" she said, forcing a smile as she opened the letter. "Mint's fine, James. Thanks."

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Sirius did not sit when Albus offered him the chair. He did not look the old man in the eye. Years of regular Occlumency, and Sirius still did not feel comfortable looking Albus Dumbledore in the eye. He didn't know how Severus could do it.

"I know," he said, scratching his cheek. "He wasn't hurt, though."

"This is getting out of hand, Sirius," Albus said gently. "Catherine is a wonderful girl, and a credit to you. That she did this by accident is an accomplishment in itself. She's quite afraid, actually. But she is dabbling in things that are out of her current range of ability, and she does not see that it is too dangerous. You need to sit down with her, as her father, so that you won't have to sit down with her as her teacher."

A shudder passed down Sirius's spine, but he said nothing. Albus was right. Albus was always right, he thought bitterly, still not meeting the man's eye. Catherine's behavior was something Sirius was more or less willfully ignoring of late, but that she'd now put two students in the infirmary by accident was something that was getting out of hand, yes.

"I'll talk to her," he said slowly, "over the holidays."

"Sirius."

Finally, he raised his eyes to Albus's focusing his surface thoughts on the way Catherine looked in his hands when she was first born, tiny and ruddy and fragile. He had been utterly terrified.

"I'll talk to her, Albus," he said coolly. "Over the holidays. Was there anything else you needed me for?"

The bright blue eyes of Dumbledore searched Sirius's eyes, but they found nothing, Sirius knew, except images and impressions from when Catherine was born. What a day that had been. To think that now she was growing so fast, perhaps too fast….

"Very well," Albus said. "But if she does this again…"

Sirius nodded curtly and showed himself out.

 **A/N: So, Catherine's got undeveloped potential for sure (and as for the guest reviewer who was concerned about her uneven level of ability eventually causing a dynamic issue with Harry in a relationship, that's totally intentional), Sirius is having to face up to his duty as a father, and Rabastan is taking a bullet – so to speak – for his sister.**

 **Review Prompt: I'm going to come out and say that the child (of all the children groups) who has the greatest natural ability and power is NOT Catherine. That said, who d'you think it might be?**

 **-C**


	31. Showcase

As if boys weren't stupid enough, the dueling club seemed to spark in the boys Hermione knew a kind of stupidity she hardly ever saw otherwise. Even Harry and Ron, who had such a great capacity for stupidity, were outdoing their usual levels.

"What is it that's making them bow to each other all the time?" she asked Neville the night before the next dueling club meeting, sitting in the corner of the common room with him. They were working on their Herbology homework, and Hermione was watching Harry and Ron retreat up to their dormitory, as though everyone in the room didn't know exactly what they were up to.

"Practicing for the club," Neville said, smiling sheepishly. "They're hyper-motivated."

"By what?" she asked, puzzled.

She expected it would have something to do with impressing Professor Black, whom both boys considered almost a kind of god.

"Well, they've heard rumors that Ginny and Kitty are putting the rest of their year to shame in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I think they want to prove they can put the girls in their place."

Hermione pursed her lips. She knew Neville didn't mean it in the sexist way it came out, but even more, she knew that the whole goal was hopeless. If Harry and Ron could beat Ginny and Catherine head-to-head, there would be no way they would be losing their Great Prank War so hopelessly. On the other hand, Catherine would have to play by the rules with her father watching, and it wasn't likely that people around her would mysteriously end up in the infirmary, as the rumors suggested.

"How does bowing help?"

"Draco suggested it. Muscle memory, I think he said. You do the simple things automatically so you can focus your mental energy on the stuff that matters, like the spells you're about to cast, or what your opponent is doing."

Although Hermione said nothing, she was suitably impressed. Not only would she never have guessed Draco Malfoy to know anything about the concept of muscle memory, she would never have expected a wizard to apply such a theory to dueling. He was right, of course. When they had watched the demonstrations between Professors Black and Snape, the two men had moved at lightning speed as though doing an elaborate and well-practiced dance. They had learned these things and committed them to muscle memory, whether they'd ever meant to or not, and could probably react to an attack without a moment's coherent forethought.

"Well," she finally said, "I hope that works out for them. Do you have your notes on the African root plants? Lavender spilled some tea on mine the other day and you're the only person whose notes I would trust."

Neville's skin flushed an attractive, pale shade of pink as he nodded, flipping quickly through his notes for the set in question. Hermione didn't know why, but she liked the way his skin did that when she complimented him. He needed a boost in self-esteem, but it was sweet-looking, all the same.

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Cara knew the next holiday was Christmas – and she was thoroughly looking forward to having Sirius and Catherine back in the house – but Sirius had promised, this year, to come back to see her on Valentine's Day, and every time she remembered the look in his eyes when he made that promise to her, Cara forgot where she was for a moment and thought of the last night they'd spent before September the first.

She'd given Kreacher instructions for dinner and went up to her bedroom, closing her eyes, feeling her heartbeat in her throat. Sometimes, when he was gone, she would take out a set of his robes he'd left behind and curl up with them in the bed. Usually, though, she would remember some of the better nights they'd had, both during and after the war. Sometimes she would remember that first night on the sofa of his flat, trying to hold in any sounds she felt welling up inside her because Remus was in the next room. Sometimes she remembered the first moments of their wedding night, before his insecurities about his Dark Mark took over.

At the thought of the Mark she frowned to herself, sitting at the end of their bed. It had faded considerably over the years, quite a bit after the death of the Dark Lord, but when she recalled how dark and angry it had been during the war sometimes it still frightened her, what they'd done. That Sirius would love her so much, that he would take that Mark just to protect her, that he would do things he still had never told her about simply to keep her safe….

That was terrifying.

Oh, but she missed him. Dark thoughts when she was alone in the house with the children were difficult, but Sirius had a way of reminding her of all the happiest things, even when she couldn't find them for herself.

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As students filed in, Remus watched the faces to get a sense of the frame of mind of each of them as they prepared to learn dueling for the day. With everything going on in the pranking, he was nervous to see that Harry, Ron, Catherine, and Ginny – and not only them – had a hardened glint in their eyes that suggested a readiness for battle. Remus didn't want to see that look in the faces of children, not after everything they'd been through and certainly not over something so silly.

Remus caught Severus's eye and nodded. Against their better judgment, they had allowed Sirius to make the pairings of students to do demonstrations for the day, and Harry and Catherine had both been chosen, although mercifully not to duel each other. If they agreed to do a tournament, like Sirius wanted, Remus would sit down with Severus and make certain that Harry and Catherine had every possible opportunity not to duel each other, unless they both made the final round. They needed no reason to want to duel each other.

"Good morning!" Sirius said, waving his arms to welcome the students, and to draw them closer to the platform where the three teachers stood, looking down at them. "I hope everybody remembers the protocols we discussed at the last meeting, because today we're going to cover some basic spells, and have you try them out."

A murmur ran through the students, and Remus smiled mildly, thinking to himself that there would be no way to spread out the students to safely avoid them hitting each other with stray spells. Even the Great Hall wasn't that great.

"Now, who remembers what spell Professor Snape and I focused on in our first round of dueling for you?"

Some of the older students, who had already learned the spell in class, called out, "Disarming Spell!"

Sirius put his thumb up in the air to signal that they got it right, but somehow he looked a bit like a rock star. Remus could barely fathom how Sirius always managed to look a little bit like a rock star. Severus rolled his eyes.

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Brontes agreed to go with his mother to do the Christmas shopping. He didn't especially like doing holiday shopping – or any shopping – but he knew that during his own first year at Hogwarts Aeson would be stuck with it, so it felt like doing his share to volunteer.

"Oh, what do you think?" his mother asked, holding up a pre-packaged collection of sweets. "Does Caro like things like this?"

He tried not to show frustration with his mother. She always seemed to think that because Catherine was calmer than Caroline that the elder sister was a sophisticated lady (which she wasn't) and that Caroline was a kind of heathen child (which he thought she might be), and she had no idea how to relate to them, much less shop for them.

"She likes sweets, yeah," he said. "You'd have to ask Aeson what she eats. I haven't got a clue."

His mother frowned, but he was grateful that she didn't say something about him not being any help. Perhaps she felt it, too, that he was going to be leaving in another year. Next November would be his last November before Hogwarts.

"Perhaps you could get her a game," he said, recalling that she didn't have her own Exploding Snap deck, and how that was the sort of thing Aeson and Caroline would play hundreds of time when all their older siblings went away to school. "Let me pick out Caro's gift. Who else are we shopping for?"

His mother relaxed and continued the consideration of their list.

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Harry practiced the motion for the Disarming Spell, and he hoped that Uncle Sirius would pick him for this particular demonstration. He didn't feel fully confident in his skill, especially against older students, but he felt even less confident about the idea of a Shield Charm against the spells of older students.

"Alright," Uncle Remus said, smiling. "You've had a bit of time to practice, to get it into your heads. Professor Black has a bit of a poor sense of humor, as I'm sure you all know, so let's get on to the selected students. Can I have…Penelope Clearwater of Ravenclaw and…Catherine Black of Hufflepuff?"

A few whispers ran through the crowd, and Harry wasn't sure if he felt disappointed or…something else. He didn't know much about Clearwater, but he did know that she was a sixth year. Harry couldn't imagine what Catherine's father could be thinking of, pitting her against such an age difference with a substantial amount of the school watching.

Catherine didn't seem bothered, though, walking onto the platform with a regal attitude that she always used when she was at her most confident, chin up and shoulders back. Harry had to admit, he didn't want to fight her when she looked like that, because he nearly always lost whatever they were doing when she looked like that.

Penelope Clearwater, a somewhat pretty girl with quite curly hair, didn't seem to notice the behavior of Catherine. Harry didn't realize he was holding his breath as the two girls bowed and paced until he felt pain in his chest. He let it out and breathed in again as they raised their arms.

Catherine was too quick for the older girl, who seemed quite stunned to watch her wand whiz out of her hand toward a first year. Uncle Sirius clapped proudly as Catherine took a cheeky little bow, and Harry hardly noticed he was clapping with other students until he looked down at his own hands to see them moving.

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Dean had to admit, Catherine Black's performance was both impressive and intimidating. Although he didn't expect to be called forward for the Shield Charm presentation, he began to shrink back into the crowd, almost hiding behind Seamus in case he should catch the eye of one of the professors and they decided to call him up. If a first year could beat a sixth year, surely he should be capable of anything. But Dean didn't feel confidence from it. He merely wondered whether he hadn't wasted an awful lot of time his first year on silly spells like color changing charms.

"I can see why Harry's losing," Seamus said solemnly. "How do you get the jump on someone with reflexes like that?"

"Harry's got good reflexes to," Dean said defensively, as if it were his own reflexes being discussed. "He's the youngest Quidditch player in a century, and you don't get to do that as a Seeker without decent reflexes."

"We didn't win the cup last year."

"That wasn't Harry's fault."

A pair of third year Ravenclaw girls nearby hissed at the boys as Professor Lupin began to speak again.

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Harry could feel his heartbeat in his throat as Uncle Remus called out the names of the students who had been selected to do the Shield Charm. He wasn't sure he'd really heard his own name until Neville nudged him forward.

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Rolland Harper stood with Charles Vaisey in the corner of the room, watching Potter get on the stage with the other person, the Slytherin fifth year who meant nothing to Rolland. The only reason he knew anything about Potter was Quidditch and from observing the Great Prank War. Adrasteia's cousin was pitted against Potter, and from what Rolland had just seen, it was little wonder the Black girl was winning the war.

Potter didn't seem too intimidated, however, by the age or size of the other student. At least, not on the outside. Rolland would have been. He couldn't imagine dueling someone so much older, so much more talented with so much more education. It was hard enough trying to remember basic spells for Transfiguration.

"Remember, younger student uses Shield Charm, and the older student may only use third year spells and downward," Professor Lupin said sternly.

"I suggest the Disarming Charm," Professor Snape drawled.

Their head of house needn't have narrowed his eyes. Just saying a suggestion was clear to any of his students that he took it as an expectation.

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Harry looked across at the much larger boy and felt a slight dizziness behind his temples. What if his reflexes weren't good enough? He hated to be embarrassed after Catherine so deftly showed of her impressive abilities. What would the school think of him?

What would she think of him?

He couldn't stand the thought that she might think him an easy target.

The large Slytherin boy had a metal watch on his arm, Harry realized. He could track the boy's timing and intentions by following the glint of that watch in the candlelight.

 _Like looking for the Snitch_.

The two boys paced to opposite sides of the platform and Harry tried not to look at Catherine. It was no good. She looked at him so smugly, with such condescension. He hated that look, but he envied her easiness. How could she stand up here like this and not feel sick? Harry felt terribly sick.

He paced back around and bowed to the boy, feeling all the eyes on him, including those of Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus, Snape…. Catherine.

Harry readied his wand. He waited, watched, for that small glint of metal before throwing up the strongest and quickest Shield Charm he could muster with an unnecessarily loud shot of " _Protego!_ "

Catherine hadn't shouted, Harry realized, feeling mildly ashamed. What would she think of him?

And then Harry realized that he was still holding his wand, and people were clapping.

His Charm had shattered when the Slytherin's spell reached it, but it had defended him. It held long enough to dissolve the spell before shattering, that that was the main thing. The Slytherin looked a bit sour about it, but Harry's eyes scanned, stunned, over his proud teachers – except Snape, who was as blank and unreadable as ever – and out into the crowd, over Neville and Ron in their glowing pride, to where Catherine was standing with her friends.

She was clapping, he realized, although begrudgingly. Her gaze met his steadily over the heads of the students, and Harry experienced a strange set of sensations that years later he would still not know how to describe to himself as he experienced it again. Almost like floating out of body, a kind of jerking forward somewhere behind his navel, a kind of tingling that started at the pulling and went all the way down to the soles of his feet. A lightness. A dizziness. A weird heaviness just at the base of his throat and nowhere else, a thing that made it hard to swallow and harder to breathe.

It probably wasn't healthy, and it seemed to vanish as soon as it came, but in that brief moment Harry felt as though an entire lifetime had passed, and as strange and foreign and mildly terrifying that sensation had been, it was better than his high from catching the Snitch. Almost as soon as it was gone, Harry had a vague impression that he needed to figure out what caused it so he could feel it again, and then he realized he'd been standing there too long, looking out at the other students, whose clapping was beginning to die down, and he was still staring at Catherine.

He could feel the back of his neck grow hot as he made his way off the platform to where Neville was looking at him quizzically and Ron beamed.

Leave it to Neville to see the things Harry could not explain. Leave it to Neville to force Harry to think about complications.

Well, Harry wasn't going to think about them. He told himself this stubbornly, and so he did not think of it again until he experienced the sensation again, years later.

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Neville tried not to watch Harry obviously at dinner, but he couldn't help wonder what that strange moment was about. One minute, Harry had been realizing he'd actually managed to create a sufficient shield, and the next he was staring into the audience with eyes gone slightly wide, his lips beginning to part, like he'd seen something that defied the laws of nature and magic.

But there was nothing unusual in the audience, and whatever Harry had seen or experienced, no one else had seen or experienced it. Neville told himself that it was just the ultimate realization of what he'd accomplished, and maybe Neville imagined it because it was over as quickly as it happened.

This is what he told himself as he pushed peas around his plate and ignored the whispers of older students about Harry and Catherine. Neville knew it was more than that, but Harry was moving on like it never happened, so Neville was going to try to pretend it never happened as well.

But years later, he would think back to that moment and wonder, without ever having a word of confirmation.

 **A/N: So… Harry and Catherine have exceptional reflexes, Neville blushes, and Harry has a moment of fearful exhilaration he can't explain.**

 **Hmmm…. ;)**

 **Review Prompt: How do you think Cara's going to pass her days when ALL her children are away at school?**

 **-C**


	32. Cat's Out of the Bag

Catherine looked over the plans for the prank and grinned, nodding. It wasn't easy work, but Transfiguration happened to be a forte of Catherine's, so if Ginny couldn't work her skill up to the task, Catherine felt confident that she could pull it off.

"I'm thinking next month," Catherine said lazily. "After Christmas. Are you going home for the holidays, or have your parents agreed to you staying with me?"

"They've agreed," Ginny said eagerly. "Rhea and Luna are coming as well?"

"Yeah," Catherine said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and making some final notes on the plans. "It'll be fun. Luna's not met my family, apart from Daddy. We can't do anything over break, mind."

Ginny nodded solemnly, understanding perfectly. Whether or not Catherine's father knew about her behavior was irrelevant, as long as Catherine could point out that he had no actual proof of her involvement with any of the pranks. To carry the war home with them would be foolishness, and she and Harry had agreed the night before via mirrors that they were going to have an unwritten truce over the holiday break. The Great Prank War could resume when term resumed, like everything else in life.

"I know Ron's coming," Ginny said, scratching the end of her nose as she looked over Catherine's notes. "Is Neville coming as well?"

"Yeah, of course. Hey, we should plan a Christmas present," Catherine said wickedly. "Something that's not really a prank, but isn't exactly what they expect for Christmas cheer."

Ginny's head tilted slightly and a slow smile came over her.

"Brilliant," she said softly. "Rhea and I will gift Neville. You can take Harry. Luna can prank Ron."

"I can't gift Harry," Catherine said, horrified. "It'll be too obvious! Why can't you do Harry? Luna can't do it!"

Ginny's cheeks turned slightly pink, but she didn't answer, which left Catherine to conclude that perhaps Ginny had already gotten something that would suit for Neville. It was the only logical explanation. Catherine supposed Luna could handle Harry's gift, with proper coaching, and she could gift Ron. She would ask George for some input, knowing that the twins had years of experience with pulling pranks on Ron right under their parents' noses.

When Catherine begrudgingly accepted Ginny's thoughts on who was gifting whom, the two girls drew up plans for possible gifts for each boy, and counter-plans in case somehow the boys thought of doing the same thing.

"They won't," Ginny said seriously. "Neville's too nice, Ron's too stupid, and Harry seems to trust you."

Catherine wasn't really sure what that last bit meant, but she supposed it must have to do with the fact that she and Harry had agreed to the truce. Was the gifting a violation of that truce? Harry might certainly see it that way, especially if she were the one to gift him. She felt strangely guilty at the thought of violating that kind of trust, but the feeling passed quickly and planning resumed.

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Luna had grown used to Catherine's bullishness. Luna supposed a true Hufflepuff had to be a bit bullish, with their loyalty thing. There was very little Luna could do, between Catherine and Ginny, once the group had decided something, to point out that the something was a poor idea.

So it was with the Christmas gift plan Ginny had come up with, and so it was with the Transfiguration plan Catherine said they would be doing come January, either Ginny or Catherine depending on Ginny's development.

Luna didn't mind sending a slightly silly gift to Ron, especially as Rhea already had some mostly harmless ideas, but she was a bit uneasy about what Catherine might give Harry, or what Ginny might give Neville. Particularly Neville. He was such a nice boy.

And more than that, as their plans had a tendency to not go particularly to plan, Luna wished they would stick to plans – unlike the Transfiguration plan – that at least would be harmless should they go wrong.

But she knew it was too much to ask, so she kept quiet and asked nothing.

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Rhea found her cousin's newfound obsession with Transfiguration to not only be annoying, but also slightly concerning. She told herself that Ginny's desire to impress Catherine was only natural – it was a hereditary power Catherine absolutely got from her highly magnetic father, and sometimes Rhea felt that need to impress as well – but she also knew that to do so with such dangerous and advanced spells to use on other people might be carrying things a bit far.

The two Ravenclaws had discussed the possibility of expressing their concerns about the behavior of Ginny and Catherine to teachers, but Luna had advised against it. Not least of which being that they, too, would be implicated in many of the plots and behaviors of the other girls, it didn't seem the sort of thing one did to one's friends, no matter how well-meant. Catherine, at the very least, would see the whole matter as a gross betrayal, and Rhea certainly didn't want that.

"Have to packed for Christmas?" she asked Luna nervously, going over her own packing list.

"Yes," Luna said slowly. "Mostly. I can't find my boots."

Rhea hesitated and reminded herself to tell Ginny and Catherine that some of the Ravenclaw third year girls had nicked Luna's boots again. Rhea didn't feel confident fighting to get Luna's things back, and Luna seemed oblivious that people were picking on her, but Catherine had an innate ability to bully or shame people into behaving better, even if only briefly. Only a brief time was needed to get Luna's boots back, after all.

"I'm sure they'll turn up," she said sympathetically. "D'you reckon we'll be allowed time to do any reading over the holiday?"

Luna hummed thoughtfully.

While they would theoretically have all the time they desired for reading, Rhea found it implausible that Catherine would allow the two girls to sit by a fireplace and read quietly for long hours of the day.

"Maybe just pick two," Luna said, gesturing to the small pile of books Rhea had optimistically assembled.

Rhea felt the color drain from her face as she turned to the pile, dreading the thought of turning a ten-book pile into a two-book pile. How could she possibly choose only two? Wasn't that some form of cruelty?

She decided not to bother with course books. She'd already read them all, and if Catherine thought they were doing homework over the break she would be horrified and probably force them to play Quidditch in the snow, Merlin forbid. Instead, Rhea picked one Muggle novel and one wizarding novel at random and shoved them in her trunk, hoping they would be given sufficient attention over Christmas.

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"Me first, me first, me first!" Caroline shrieked as they hurried up the snow-covered gravel walk to the gates of Selwyn Manor. She hopped up and down several times, trying to reach her hand high enough on the gates to trigger their opening. When she realized she was once again too short to trigger them on her own, she squealed with frustration and waited impatiently for her mother to press a hand to the gates.

As soon as the gates opened, Caroline zipped into the grounds, up to the front door, inside the grand manor, and up the stairs to her own room. She didn't bother taking off her shoes and coat until she was in her own room, and then she hurried across the wing, down the hall, to where her parents' room was.

She liked to have as long as possible upon first arriving alone in the Master Bedroom, because she would breathe in the spicy scent of her father and the sweet, floral scent of her mother, and the way they seemed to linger in the thick wallpaper and pillowcases. Before her parents moved back in for the season, it didn't feel intrusive to breathe in their space, but after her mother started unpacking it seemed inappropriate, so Caroline tried to get as much of the smell as she could before hurrying down to the kitchens.

"Mummy!" she cried, running down the hall after sufficient time enjoying her favorite smell. "Mummy, are there biscuits?"

Jason, who was passing her going up the stairs as she was hurrying down said, "If you'd followed us in you would have already had some."

She didn't mind his teasing. It was worth getting her biscuits a few minutes late.

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Hermione was sitting in the common room. A simple thing. Nothing particularly or inherently dangerous involved in it. She thought it would be reasonable for her to sit in the common room once she finished her final assignments for the term and simply read a book. She wasn't by the fireplace, but sat by the window instead to avoid crowds.

Nothing suggested danger to her about the situation, and she was glad of that. She was trying not to be a bit jealous that the boys were all going to Selwyn Manor for Christmas again and she was staying at Hogwarts. Her parents were visiting family in Yorkshire, and this particular aunt was not very supportive of her mother having a witch for a daughter (this aunt was a devout Anglican who saw the devil's work in Hermione's gift). Considering, her parents thought it would be best for her to stay at school for the holiday, and that would have been fine.

If the boys hadn't all agreed to go to Selwyn Manor with Harry and not invite her.

Now she was alone at Hogwarts and not even with any particular project to work on. She supposed she could work her way through the library, as she'd been planning to do for some time, and see how far she got. One could learn enormous amounts of information that way.

Just as she was trying to decide where she should start her methodological working through the library, Hermione felt a curious prickling sensation on her skin, and then an extreme heat down her spine and on her face, a heat that seemed to pool at her cheeks and the base of her spine.

A first year girl shrieked and Ginny dropped her wand, horrified.

"I'm so sorry!" she said, hurrying over. "I didn't mean to do that! I was just…I was just…"

Ginny looked near tears, and for the moment Hermione didn't care what Ginny was just doing. She looked at the window and caught enough of her reflection to see fur, whiskers, and what looked like a cat's tail behind her.

Hermione shrieked at the realization, and a few older students laughed. A different kind of heat pooled from head to toe as she tried to think of what to do. Thankfully, Neville sprang into action and helped Ginny and Colin Creevey as they ushered Hermione hurriedly from the common room, and out into the corridor.

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Although she was exhausted and haggard, Damon had to think his mother was in a good mood. Whatever it was that kept pulling her attention away, it appeared to be going well, although time-consuming. He slipped through the house as quietly as possible, hoping that if she fell asleep accidentally somewhere he didn't wake her up with any of his movements.

Everything was better with sleep, he reasoned, and if she was having things go well when she was so clearly not taking care of herself, perhaps things would be even better after she had an impromptu nap.

And maybe then, he thought – slightly ashamed at how selfish he felt – she would have a bit more time for him. Maybe she would wrap presents for Christmas and ask him to pick out the bows, like she'd always done when he was little.

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Hermione whimpered as Madam Pomfrey checked her over for general health and complications, shaking her head disapprovingly. Ginny Weasley was being chastised by a half-furious, half-proud Professor McGonagall in the corridor, and Neville was waiting silently on the other side of the privacy screen Madam Pomfrey had graciously set up around Hermione's cot.

"Well, there is good and bad news," Madam Pomfrey said solemnly, lowering her wand. "There will be no permanent damage, and there is no immediate danger. It is fully reversible, but it will take some time."

"How long?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Well, if you were not staying over Christmas, you will be now."

If Hermione hadn't had fur covering her face, she would have blanched. Either from the widening of Hermione's eyes or the perking of Hermione's whiskers, Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand the girl's distress and said soothingly, "Never you mind, my dear. I'll make certain you're quite comfortable, and you'll be your complete self by the start of term! This sort of thing happens all the time. Quite safe." Then she frowned slightly and said, more to herself than to Hermione, "A little too often for my liking."

When the matron was about to go, Hermione said weakly, "Will I still be able to read?"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips thoughtfully and said, "Well, not tonight. But the claws will be gone by morning, and you'll be perfectly free to read to your heart's content after that. I should warn you not to shed in the books, if you're using library books, mind. Madam Pince reminds me of this semi-annually."

Hermione nodded, and blinked back tears. She almost asked Neville to stay and read to her, but it would be awkward through the screen, and she couldn't stand to have him see her like this.

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Cara rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the list of things she needed to do and check on before all their guests arrived for Christmas, but she was frozen, standing in the bedroom they were putting Luna Lovegood in.

Standing in the room brought back a flood of pleasant and unpleasant memories. It was the room where she and Sirius started their married life, where they lived until Regulus's death. It was a room where they had shared intense happiness and what felt like unending fears at the time. It almost felt wrong, putting a guest in it, but the room hadn't exactly lain dormant and unused since Cara and Sirius moved out of it and into Grimmauld Place. Cara had put a few guests in it, as needed, and it didn't make sense to separate Luna unduly from Ginny and Rhea by putting her in a different wing.

No, Cara would simply have to avoid sentimentality as she prepared the room, and perhaps have Catherine show her friends to their rooms.

She could hear Caroline's calls up the corridor, asking if they were having dinner soon in a dramatic way Caroline always adopted when she was excited for some big event. In this case, Cara supposed it was Sirius's coming home that had their youngest so excited.

Cara closed her eyes for a moment and smiled. Sirius was coming home. She could almost see him, standing before her, barely out of Hogwarts and still dressed from their wedding, his eyes shining with desire.

She went to drag Caroline down to dinner, leaving the room as quickly as possible. Perhaps she would have an elf prepare it.

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Remus poured Sirius a cup of tea and sat down beside his old friend, feeling a mixture of amusement and pity. Sirius knew that in spite of the incident in question happening in the Gryffindor Common Room, Catherine was somehow at the root of the matter. Remus didn't even have to ask to see it on Sirius's face. But Remus couldn't help feeling just a touch of pride that Catherine and Ginny were following in the Marauder's footsteps, trying to accomplish such fantastic spells. Remus supposed it was wrong to wish Harry would pick up the pace and show his father's initiative, but it was probably safer without Catherine and Harry at equal desire for such knowledge.

"They won't try anything mad at Christmas," Remus said bracingly.

"Christmas," Sirius said with a groan of longing. "You've no idea how much I'm dying to see Cat again. Feels like it's been years. Kitty's going to give me gray hairs, mate. It's bound to happen. You just wait."

Remus tried not to smile at this. James had even begun getting his first grays, and remarking how unfair it was that Sirius had three times as many children and hair as raven-black as they day they all met at eleven. Remus hadn't bothered reminding either of his friends that he'd already had a few grays at eleven.

He didn't want them to feel bad about making perfectly natural – if a bit vain – statements in his company.

"I'm sure all three of them will be happy to see you," Remus said gently. "You could do with a break."

They all could.

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"I really didn't mean to," Ginny whispered to Colin, mortified.

Technically, they were supposed to be asleep. It was terribly late, Colin and Ginny were both leaving after breakfast on the train, and everyone sensible had gone to bed, but Ginny had insisted that she wouldn't be able to sleep, and Colin offered to stay up with her.

He almost wished he hadn't. His eyes were beginning to droop, and he knew that if he allowed himself to fall asleep while Ginny fretted it would look worse than going to bed at a reasonable hour like everyone else.

"I know," Colin said, hoping he sounded less drowsy than he felt. "I think Hermione knows, too."

"I just feel so terrible."

Colin nodded. She didn't really want comfort, he realized. She just wanted him to listen, like when his mother accidentally broke grandmother's wedding plate while she was doing the washing and talked at Colin for nearly three hours. It took him about two hours to realize he wasn't in trouble, but his mother was too upset to realize her son just wanted to go outside and play while she needed to talk.

Ginny only talked for another hour before her words trailed off. Colin sat up slightly and saw that she had fallen asleep and he sighed, sinking back onto the sofa, closing his eyes and hoping morning was further away than it seemed.

 **A/N: So, both cliques in the same manor for Christmas…. What could go wrong?**

 **Review Prompt: Who's going to have a better Christmas… Hermione or Rhea?**

 **-C**


	33. Triumph

Almost immediately after Christmas dinner, Cora watched her mother walk out of the room, and she shivered as the front door shut.

"Where's Mum gone?" Ourania asked, obviously not seeing the way their father's eyes darkened.

"Just work, lovely."

Cora's stomach dropped and she pushed her plate away. Her father gave her a concerned look when she said she wasn't hungry, but when his eyes met hers, she knew he understood that she was too nervous to eat. He told her to go ahead and wash up, and Cora did, washing her hands and about half a dozen serving spoons before going to her room.

She closed her eyes, hoping it would alleviate her nausea, but nothing seemed to help. She knew from her father's face that all the suffering, all the nerves, it was about to come to a head. Either the worst would happen, or something very good would happen. Cora just repeated over and over in her mind that she wanted the best, that she wanted good things for her mother, because maybe if she wished for it hard enough, it would happen.

Uncle Gideon had said that once, that sometimes wishing for things hard enough would make them more likely. He teased that this was how their father managed to convince their mother to marry him, that he'd spent five years wishing for it with all his soul and when he finally asked she really couldn't have said no.

Cora had never believed in the power of wishes, but like with all moments of great distress and need, she called on the powers she didn't believe in, with the lights on to protect her from the darkness, with all the belief of the devout. In that moment, her faith in wishes was absolute and she would have believed that her wishes would move the waters if she had felt she needed to. The strength of such wishes, surely, would protect her mother. She told herself that if her mother accomplished whatever it was she was trying to do, Cora would believe in the power of wishes.

She would not, of course, but the fickleness and faithfulness of a human heart do not factor in to such moments. Only the intensity of need.

Almost an hour later her father came knocking, asked if she wanted to help Ourania paint the holly leaves she'd gathered that morning, but Cora said she didn't feel well and silently cursed her father for interrupting her wishes. She held her breath and willed him away, and she felt him lingering on the other side of her door for a moment, as though wondering whether he shouldn't check on her, but then she heard the floorboards as he moved away up the corridor, obviously deciding that Ourania's inability to be trusted with paint was more immediately troubling than Cora's behavior.

This only strengthened Cora's momentary belief in the power of wishing, and she returned to her pleas and wishes with renewed vigor and a sigh of relief.

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Rabastan met Dorcas on a cold, dark London street three blocks from the Ministry.

"I've made the necessary arrangements," he said softly. "You'd better be bloody prepared, Prewett. I'm sticking my neck out for you big this time."

She snorted and said, "Let's not pretend I'm fooled, Rabastan. You're not doing this for me and you never were."

He bristled at the unspoken name of his half-sister that passed between them by eye contact, and his jaw twitched. Forcing himself into the manners he had been taught since birth, a kind of mechanism to keep himself moving when he didn't want to do something, he bowed slightly and motioned for her to go first.

They took the visitor's entrance so they wouldn't be separated. Rabastan would have no trouble using the employee entrance, but in separating between male and female they would have to not be together and it was critical not to be split up. He pursed his lips as he closed the door to the cramped phone booth and watched her dial.

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Dorcas and Rabastan stepped into the meeting room of Minister Fudge, and a shiver ran down Dorcas's spine at the sight of her prey, the toad-like little woman all in pink who sat between the Minister and the new arrivals, at a table full of high-ranking officials and donors. Rabastan really had pulled out all the stops.

"Good evening," she said, nodding to Rabastan as he took his seat. "I appreciate you all taking time to hear what I have to say, especially on Christmas when I know we would all rather be somewhere else, but as I believe Mr. Lestrange has impressed upon you, this matter is critical."

"Indeed, Madam Prewett," Fudge said, nodding for her to continue. "Proceed."

Dorcas passed around the large presentation files she had prepared for each member of the meeting with statements from the Auror office, St. Mungo's, Lily Potter, Narcissa Malfoy, and the publisher of Gilderoy Lockhart's work.

"As I am quite sure you are all aware," she said as they opened the packets, before they had a chance to begin reading, "I have been investigating the fraudulent writings of one Gilderoy Lockhart."

"You've called us out of our homes on Christmas for a matter of fraud?" Madam Umbridge said with a childishly sweet smile. "Doesn't that seem over-zealous to you?"

"Not at all, Madam," Dorcas said, smiling back to show her lack of intimidating and to hide her frustration. "Because during the course of investigations, I have found something far more serious than a simple case of fraud. What I have found is a complex network set up to put back the work since the war in creature rights, perhaps even setting us back even further than that. Even for the most strongly against the developments of Madam Potter and St. Mungo's to support werewolf welfare," she said, anticipating some nervous shuffling around the table, "I have found evidence that someone highly placed in the Ministry is using this campaign to also subtly further anti-Muggle and anti-Muggle-born goals."

Any shifting or shuffling ended and the whole room froze. Regardless of personal beliefs on the matter, the war was still too fresh in everybody's minds. No one wanted to open that can of worms again, not when everyone sitting there remembered how many people suffered terribly for the cause of blood purity.

"Highly placed in the Ministry?" Fudge said, eyes narrowing. "You have proof of this?"

"The proof has been meticulously gathered from a wide variety of sources," Dorcas said, "and is in your prepared packets." People began quickly rifling through their packets to get a sense of the accusations, the sources, the weight of the problem. "As you will find, these sources are of the highest quality and character, including several Order of Merlin awardees." Fudge murmured his agreement as he thumbed through his packet, his eyes going wider at each new document. "And quite frankly, I want to know what Madam Umbridge thinks she can say in her defense."

The room went deathly quiet once more, and every head turned in slow unison.

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When Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw described to his mother the circumstances of a girl his year, Hermione Granger, who had been accidentally given certain features of a cat by one of her housemates, his mother insisted he write a get-well card for the "poor dear."

Never mind he could count on one hand the number of times he'd even spoken to Granger in the past year and a half.

"Isn't Granger the one who topped your year?" his father asked over his paper.

"Yeah."

"Ravenclaw like you, then?"

"No, she's in Gryffindor. But I think she ought to have been in Ravenclaw."

Anthony's father hummed with disapproval. He firmly believed that Ravenclaw was the only house to be in, and that if Hermione Granger hadn't made it in, well, there must be something wrong with her. Anthony half-hoped his father's house bigotry would lead to him not having to write a get-well card, but it was not to be.

He hoped she appreciated the thing, he thought as he scrawled the most basic, inoffensive message he could think of. She had really better bloody well like it.

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Madam Umbridge said nothing for what felt like an eternity. She merely stared back at Dorcas, evenly, placidly. Rabastan seemed to be holding his breath, and Dorcas thought she might have been holding hers, as well.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Umbridge tittered.

"I can see here," Amos Diggory said, frowning, "that you've given personal approval to the anti-creature terrorists societies we're trying to root out of this country to be chartered organizations."

"What?" Fudge said, flipping to the page Amos was reading. "When was this?"

"Two weeks ago," Dorcas said calmly. "You signed it as well, Minister, although I doubt you noticed the finer points of what was coming across your desk. You have, after all, been terribly busy."

Fudge flipped through several more documents before looking up at Umbridge and saying, "This warrants an explanation, Dolores."

"Indeed," Rabastan said in a low voice. "And I suggest you give one, Madam Umbridge. Now."

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Catherine curled up on the floor to watch the fireplace after all the festivities, and she was surprised and momentarily suspicious when Harry sat beside her. He didn't say anything, just watching the flames and stretching out his legs.

"Did you like your gift?" she said, smiling at the thought of the hair potion she'd gifted.

The corners of his lips twitched and he said, "Happy Christmas, Kitty."

"Happy Christmas," she echoed, sighing and resting her head on his shoulder. She was mildly surprised when he didn't shrug her off, but instead rested his head on her head as they watched the dancing flames in silence.

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Dorcas watched the faces around the table as Umbridge tried to dig herself out of the hole. The more she dug, the more others around the table began pointing out evidence that contradicted her excuses, and Dorcas found that the work was practically doing itself. Umbridge grew increasingly flustered and her already high-pitched voice went higher, shriller, with each accusation she had to defend herself from. If Dorcas didn't know any better, she'd say that Rabastan seemed mildly impressed.

She actually was a bit impressed with her own work. She knew she'd tied up every loose end she could possibly find, even asking Rabastan, rather than Sirius (a famous friend of a famous werewolf) to call together his allies and associates. The only thing better would have been Lucius Malfoy, but she didn't have the kind of hold over him she had on Rabastan. She did feel moderately guilty, using Cara as a threat to get what she wanted. It almost felt like what Bellatrix had done to Sirius all those years ago. But Dorcas told herself that she was only doing it to protect Sirius and his family from the potential fallout, where Rabastan needed less protection.

Rabastan had less to hide.

Suddenly, in a burst of frustration that stunned everyone else at the table, Umbridge cried, "I merely put in place what everyone wants but is too afraid to enact! It isn't right to give our resources and freedoms to such filthy half-breeds! It isn't safe!"

Many eyes widened at this, and Fudge said softly, "And Muggle-borns, Dolores? What threat could they possibly pose?"

"Do you not see?" she said eagerly, looking at him with adoration and pleading that Dorcas found repulsive. Thank Merlin she and Fabian skipped over the soppy phases of romantic interest. How could Fudge have been ignorant to this woman's obsession for him? "Diluting the bloodlines with stolen magic—"

"What?" Rabastan asked, truly stunned, laughing. "I'm sorry, did you just say 'stolen magic'? I'm sorry, I was a Death Eater and I've never heard anything more ridiculous and desperate in my life."

Umbridge puffed herself up and said, "How do else do you explain Muggle-borns and Squibs, then?"

"Never mind that the proportions don't make sense," a witch from the Department of Mysteries said, her nostrils twitching with irritation. "There are far more Muggle-borns than Squibs, and even if you measure magical core strengths it's not mathematically possible for such a thing to be true."

"Squibs happen in the oldest and strongest families, you know," Umbridge continued, passionately. "Why even the Selwyns—"

"I thank you to remember your tongue, Madam Umbridge," Rabastan said coolly and the whole room became deathly quiet for the third time that night as he spoke with obvious vitriol. "Firstly, my sister is not a Squib. She is perfectly capable of wielding a wand, perhaps with as much success as you. Secondly, even as a former Death Eater I am fully prepared to admit that the strength of magical core has no proven connection to the age and purity of the family. One of the strongest wizards I know is a half-blood. If I got together a group of old pureblood friends for a dueling party, he'd best the lot of us, and he doesn't even like to use his wand."

In the stark silence that followed what Dorcas recognized as a ringing endorsement of Severus Snape's magical abilities, her heart began to pound with vigorous hope at last.

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Jason crept into the sitting room to find the toy train engine he'd left on the table, and he was surprised to find his father standing in the doorway with Aunt Lily. They both held up their fingers to their lips and Jason nodded, craning his neck to see what they were looking at.

On the floor, by the fireplace, with their backs against the sofa sat Harry and Catherine, curled up with their heads resting together, fast asleep. Jason's jaw dropped slightly as he wondered how this could have happened. According to Rhea, the two were locked in some kind of intense battle at school. Surely they couldn't be willing to physically touch, even with a truce for the holiday.

"Should we move them?" Jason's father asked softly, a smile playing at his lips.

Aunt Lily pursed her lips for a moment and said, "No, let them be. They'll wake up soon enough when their necks start to ache."

Jason waited patiently for his father to fetch the toy train engine while he was carefully freezing the fire so that it wouldn't die out while the two slept in front of it, but also wouldn't burn them while they slept with accidental embers popping out of the grate. Then Jason hissed his thanks to his father and hurried away, engine in hand, to tell Caroline and Ginny what he'd just witnessed.

/-/

Dorcas held her breath, as did several other people in the room, she was sure. She waited for the verdict from Fudge, who was closing the evidence packet and looking at Umbridge as though he'd never seen her before.

"You will clear out your desk, Dolores," he said, his jaw twitching slightly. "You are no longer an employee of the Ministry."

/-/

When the front door opened and closed, Damon was lying awake in his bed. Ourania might not have been troubled by their mother leaving so abruptly after Christmas dinner, but he certainly was, and he could tell that Cora and their father were concerned, too. He heard low voices in the entry and he slipped out of bed, pushing his feet into his slippers and tiptoeing out of his room, not bothering to close the door behind him in case his mother heard the latch. Not even daring to breathe, he made his way up the corridor toward the kitchen, where his father was pouring his mother some tea.

She looked okay, Damon decided. In fact, she was smiling. Even as sleep-deprived as she so clearly was, the smile brought back some of her usual sparkle. He craned his neck closer to the doorway to hear better what his parents were saying.

"So it was a success, then?" his father asked eagerly.

"Better than I could have imaged," his mother sighed, taking her tea with a murmur of thanks.

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Fabian placed his hand over Dorcas's as she related the whole affair at the Ministry, and her decisive victory over the Senior Undersecretary they all had despised for some time.

"So she's gone?" he said, more than a little impressed with his wife. "You've actually got her fired on Christmas?"

"Well, I didn't plan it quite that way, it just worked out," she said, shrugging slyly. "Thank Rabastan. He's the one that threw this whole thing together."

"Can't say I'm not immensely pleased," he said, smiling. "I take it this whole mess is over? The kids are worrying, dove. Cora didn't even finish her afters."

Dorcas's eyes flashed with maternal concern and she assured him that this particular nightmare was over. He knew, though, as he hugged her to his chest, that it would not be the last such ordeal. This was his payment for falling in love with a woman who had such a keen sense of social justice.

"Promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"You'll do your utmost to not have another big mess like this before the children are all of age."

Dorcas laughed and didn't answer him, but he didn't really mind. He'd only been half-serious, and the most important thing was that she had won. She was victorious and in his arms on Christmas night. Three of their children were sleeping soundly up the corridor, and they had the house to themselves.

"Tired?" he asked, whispering the word in her ear with his most teasing tone.

"I'm feeling pretty wired, actually," she said, stretching her arms even as he held her close.

In his deepest, most sensual voice he said, "Good."

Her head shifted so that she was looking up at him, and he relished the way her eyes darkened. Years of waiting, and he got to hold her every night. Years of enduring Gideon's teasing and feeling like the time would never be right.

So worth it.

 **A/N: Everybody say thank you to** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **, whose flurry of reviews earned y'all a bonus chapter this week! DING DONG the wicked TOAD is FIRED! :D Couldn't resist. ;)**

 **Very little Harry and Kitty here, but don't worry, plenty of them to come. What's the next big controversy they have to face? *giggles* It's coming. Let's all just focus on the prank war for the moment, eh?**

 **Review Prompt: Imagine you're Umbridge. Apart from wardrobe shopping, what's the first thing you'd do after being fired in this manner, on Christmas?**

 **-C**


	34. Admiration

The new term went on as it always did. Harry focused on his Quidditch, his schoolwork, and watching his back where the Great Prank War was concerned. He hadn't even realized that Valentine's Day was approaching until he heard Hermione telling Neville that Ginny Weasley seemed to be a bit silly about the upcoming event.

"I think she's got a crush on somebody," Hermione was telling Neville, who listened with what Harry assumed was feigned interest. "But when Catherine Black asked her about it, she clammed up. Wouldn't say a word."

Now, that was a bit interesting. Harry wouldn't have given Valentine's Day any thought, but he wondered briefly if anyone would be bold enough send Catherine notes of admiration right under her father's nose. Perhaps George Weasley, which was sure to amuse Catherine. Harry didn't think deeply on it, but he hoped, just a little bit, that Catherine wouldn't be silly enough to fall for such pathetic declarations. He respected her for being hard to please, even when he had found it frustrating about her as children. If she were to throw away that trait because some boy showed interest, Harry would have to think less of her.

"Do girls even like that sort of thing?" Ron suddenly asked.

All three heads – Harry, Neville, Hermione – turned to watch him take a too-large bite of toast. None of them had realized he'd even been listening. So often he was too focused on his food to care about the conversation.

"Erm, sometimes," Hermione said, and Harry realized she was going slightly pink. "If…if they're tasteful."

"What does that mean?" Ron asked scratching his cheek after swallowing his toast.

"Like…like not too ostentatious. Oh, that means like, showy. Gaudy? And…not cheesy or something. Like terrible rhymes or…things like that."

Hermione trailed off, shrugging, glancing at Fred and George, who were both buttering toast. George, Harry noticed, kept glancing over at the Ravenclaw table, where Catherine was sitting with Luna, Rhea, and Ginny, their heads together, in a very serious conversation.

Harry realized that while Catherine was bound to get valentines, no one would think to get her favorite chocolate. No one else would know her favorite flower. No one else knew her favorite Muggle poem. No matter what they did, it wouldn't be the right valentine for her.

And that mattered, although Harry didn't spend any time thinking about why it would matter.

"Well, people wanting to send stuff to Kitty are at a disadvantage," Harry said, with a voice that didn't quite sound like his own. Ron frowned his question, cheeks bulging with a too-large bite of sausage. "Her dad's a teacher, isn't he? It would take a brave soul to send a valentine to a girl whose father was sitting at the Head Table."

There was a general murmur of agreement and Ron looked thoughtfully down at his sausages before picking up the ketchup and pouring it over the sausages generously.

Valentine's Day, Harry decided, was a stupid holiday.

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Catherine sniffed and said, "It's not like I'm asking either of you to do it alone. I'd do it myself, only Ginny and I have drawn a bit too much attention to our wandwork lately, and Charms are more your thing than mine, Luna."

The two Ravenclaw girls exchanged a glance. Rhea's eyes were nervous and Luna's were moderately and vaguely intrigued – although this was Luna's typical expression.

"I'm a little concerned," Luna finally said softly, "about doing it so publically."

"You won't get caught if you do it exactly as discussed," Catherine said. "Anyway, it's not like it's even going to be tomorrow, or even a week's time. You can practice."

Ginny tapped Catherine's wrist to signify that Harry was glancing over, and Catherine's neck straightened as she tried to look less urgent in her posture. Whatever he thought they were talking about, the less it looked like they were plotting, the better. Anything the girls did was bound to be more successful if he didn't see it coming.

"Alright," Luna said, and Rhea winced, but nodded. "But we do it when I say we're ready, and not before. It's not like we're losing, Kitty. It doesn't have to be on a timeframe."

Catherine didn't like relinquishing scheduling control, but she agreed to Luna's terms. It was only fair.

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Ginny sat in History of Magic, not really listening to Professor Black but not feeling especially guilty about it. She certainly looked like she was taking notes on his rousing lecture on one of the many Goblin Wars, but in actuality she was drafting the valentine she intended to send, if she could get up the courage and disguise her writing well enough.

The real problem was that she had to do it in class. If she did it in the Tower, there was a chance another Gryffindor would see and tell others, and if she did it when she was out and about, Catherine might see and be appalled.

What Ginny had yet to tell another living soul – although she thought Luna might suspect – was that she had an ever-growing crush on Harry Potter.

She never meant for it to happen, especially given the feud between their cliques. But when she'd seen him flying, when she saw how effortlessly he glided across the sky and maneuvered and even sped and dove…. Ginny had always found Seekers a bit attractive, and that Harry was not that much older than her made him even more attractive. That she had met his parents and friends, and saw what his life was like, it was almost too easy to imagine her place in it, if they were together.

She didn't really have a concept of what they would do together, but she imagined just togetherness, and an eventual domesticity like what her parents had. Truthfully, she hadn't dare give it too much thought for fear that thoughts would accidentally lead to words at the worst times and Catherine would find out. She wasn't sure what her best friend would actually say, but she suspected that it wouldn't be supportive.

So Ginny was reduced to daydreaming in classes and drafting her valentine instead of taking notes, and praying that Colin's notes would be good enough to help her do her homework and revision. She didn't think she could get away with asking anyone else and having them give her the notes without asking any questions.

The valentine wasn't going well. She daren't sign her name – that wasn't the problem – but she didn't want him to think it stupid. Her greatest fear was that he would find her words so silly that he would show it to his friends and it would become a joke passed around to everyone. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide her mortification if someone showed it to her, and then everyone would know that she sent it. Reading back over her lines now, Ginny wondered if perhaps she should just not send it after all. Nothing good could come from a moment of recklessness.

George had asked Ginny that morning, before classes, what Catherine's favorite flowers were, and Ginny had said she didn't know. It was truthful; she'd never bothered to ask. It wasn't as though Ginny had any intention of giving her best friend flowers. The question, she told herself as she scribbled out another failed draft was whether she was going to do as her brother asked and find out for him.

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Luna and Rhea had their free period to themselves in the library because Ryana Cotton needed Catherine's help on something. This would normally be time spent on homework, but given Catherine's…ultimatum of sorts, the girls were instead examining their journals on spells and pranks that they were keeping in code for use in the Great Prank War.

"I hate this," Rhea admitted softly. "I really don't want to do this."

"We don't have to do anything massive," Luna reasoned. "If we make it something fun instead of mean and targeted…well, Kitty might not like it as well, but it'll still count. Who knows? Maybe we can change the tone of this mess."

Rhea did like the sound of that, but she was a bit worried what Catherine would say, knowing they'd deviated from the plan. Luna was brave, especially when it came to standing up to the other two. Rhea really didn't feel that she shared her friend's confidence in such matters.

"Just tell me what you think we can do," Rhea said softly, leaning forward, "and I'll back you all the way. But…you'll break it to Kitty?"

Luna nodded, smiled mildly and said, "I think we should probably start by having a chat with your cousins."

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On the morning of Valentine's Day, Lily woke up to kisses along her collarbone, and she smiled without opening her eyes. She lifted her hand and clutched at her husband's hair, feeling its softness between her fingers.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling him whisper his reply on her skin as he kissed up the column of her neck.

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Draco did not understand the purpose of Valentine's Day. He got one card last year, and another this year, and he knew it was from Pansy Parkinson, and he thought it was utter foolishness. However, he did notice two things of interest while watching the chaos of extra mail around the Great Hall that morning.

First, Harry Potter got a card. Draco was very curious who it was from, and he noticed Potter look alarmed as he opened it, so he hadn't been expecting any such affections, and it was almost more shocking than Granger getting one – although Draco knew that had to be from Neville.

The second thing, though, was far more interesting. A small flock of owls dropped in on Catherine, and her father actually jumped to his feet when he saw about half a dozen cards drop in front of her. Draco was amused with how stunned she was. Never mind that she was attractive, Draco knew plenty of his own classmates as old as fourth years who would want to get her attention because of her heritage. The one thing she paid attention to, however, barely glancing at the cards, was a small box that she pulled a chocolate bar out of. There didn't seem to be a card that Draco could see.

And it seemed to puzzle and intrigue Catherine, as well, who looked around as though trying to figure out who sent it.

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Lily laughed as James told her she shouldn't dare think of going in to work. He had to run something by Grimmauld Place, he said, but he would be back shortly. Lily told herself that she should be flattered that her husband loved her enough to make her stay in on Valentine's Day, but she wished that Sirius didn't have James running errands for him because he couldn't take time away from the castle.

He wasn't gone long, so whatever the boys had arranged, they'd organized it well, and as soon as he got back, James pushed Lily's mostly-finished breakfast out of the way and pulled her into his lap as he sat down. Lily laughed wrapping her arms about his neck.

"D'you remember what today is?" he said, hazel eyes shining with devotion behind his glasses.

"Of course I do," she said, laughing. "You've only wished me a happy Valentine's Day six times since I woke up this morning."

"Not that," he said, wrinkling his nose playfully. "February 14th, 1978. It was at lunch, in the second floor corridor. Moaning Myrtle was having a rough day and we were ushering students away from the flooding."

Lily did remember, with remarkable clarity, that day. She had been certain, trying not to splash as she waded through the mess, that it was a terrible sign of drudgery and bad fortune. James asked, when they finished, if she wanted to have a drink or something, after they got cleaned up. She'd agreed – although she probably would have agreed to anything by that point – and once she'd put on clean and dry robes, socks, and shoes, she followed James to the kitchens for hot chocolate. On the second cup and about an hour and a half into the conversation, she realized she was having a ridiculously good time just being with him, and she agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him on the upcoming Friday.

"I agreed to go out with you," she said, pressing her forehead to his. "Fifteen years later, here we are. Married. A son at Hogwarts."

"He's beautiful," James said, grinning. "Not because he looks like me, but…but because he's ours. I mean, I never say it anymore, and I don't want you to think that I'm not still astonished every day that you're mine and he's ours and everything seems to have worked out okay. I mean, we fought a war, and here we are. Alive, mostly well."

Lily kissed him as soon as she processed that he had mentioned the war. She could think about school, could think about how far they'd come, but even though she and James had come out alright from the war, it pained her to remember it.

She started thinking about Sirius, and Cara, and that mark on Sirius's arm that his children still didn't know existed. Someday he would have to tell them, and it would break his heart if they should look at him differently, if they should see him as anything other than their hero.

James pulled back from the kiss, startled, and said, "Love, you're crying."

Lily hastily wiped her eyes and said, "D'you want ice cream? I feel like it's a good day for ice cream."

"It's February."

"Does that matter?"

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Hermione's jaw dropped when she looked at the card that Harry had received, that he was puzzling over. The attempt to disguise the handwriting was a good effort, but Hermione could recognize it as Ginny's.

This news was not only startling, but revealing. This would be why Ginny didn't seem as eager about the Prank War lately, why she seemed quiet, reserved, and even nervous in the common room. Ginny, for whatever reason, had a crush on Harry. Catherine obviously didn't know, or it would cause problems for their friendship.

Hermione's first instinct was to tell Neville what she had deduced, but she caught sight of the girl down the table looking pointedly at her porridge. No, Hermione decided. There was no point opening Ginny up to potential ridicule. The crush would continue or it wouldn't, and telling Harry (which Neville was sure to do, as a loyal friend) could only embarrass Ginny if she wasn't ready to acknowledge the matter. Potentially more problematic, it could cause issues in Ginny's friend group, and Hermione didn't have the heart to do that. Even with what Ginny had accidentally done to her – and perhaps especially because of that unfortunate incident – Hermione liked the girl, and realized she couldn't help that her friend was mischievous and persuasive.

Neville's was too, after all.

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Late at night, Sirius slipped out of the castle on Dumbledore's permission. He walked quickly to the gate, and as soon as he got off the grounds he Disapparated to the front step of his home in London. He let himself in, hurrying up the stairs, to the master bedroom where Cara was fast asleep in the bed. He almost hated to wake her, but Sirius smiled to himself, climbing into their bed, kicking off his shoes as he pulled himself toward her.

Her breath was so delicate as she slept, and for a moment he just hovered over her, watching the smooth unconcerned expression on her beautiful face in the moonlight.

Seeing their daughter with so many admirers had been a shock and a bit of a horrible moment. Catherine was growing up, and the reminder that she would not be his little girl forever was another reminder about how much he would have to lean on Cara's strength as he went through the changes.

He pressed a kiss to Cara's lips, nudging her mouth open slightly. She blinked slowly into awareness, kissing him back groggily and humming against his lips. He pulled away from the kiss, loving the low and disappointed moan this earned.

"I love you, Cat," he sighed, before pressing a quick kiss to her throat. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

"I love you, too," she said sleepily. "But what are you doing here? James dropped by with your gift, said you wouldn't be able to get away."

"I had to see you," he said, breathing in her scent, like strawberries and cinnamon with just a hint of something floral. "Kitty got valentines today."

"So?"

"That's our little girl," he said, pouting. "Boys shouldn't be writing her notes of admiration."

Cara laughed and said, "She's a very pretty girl, love. You say so all the time. If you'd been that age, what would you have done?"

Sirius said nothing, thinking back to himself in school. If he'd known someone like Catherine, he wasn't sure what he'd done. There hadn't been any girls worth knowing that he could recall, except Lily, and she wasn't ever going to be his type. Had Cara gone to Hogwarts….

He really wasn't sure. But he wouldn't have written her valentines. Who even did that?

With the obvious exception of James.

"She's still a child, Sirius," Cara said, running her fingers lazily through his hair, her nails pleasantly scraping his scalp in a way that reminded him of being scratched behind the ears. "In a few years' time you have my permission to be concerned, but she's only eleven years old. Let her breathe. Having been raised in a cellar, I can tell you that it's not pleasant to be cooped up and locked away. If you try to be overprotective before there's any need, she'll never forgive you."

Sirius's mind flitted instantly to the horrible scene his imagination sometimes cooked up, a scene where he finally showed his daughter the hideous mark on his arm. She would be so ashamed of him, he knew. She wouldn't understand. And he couldn't stand the thought that Catherine would see him as anything but her hero.

 **A/N: Okay, seriously, you guys owe** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **a huge thank you. TWO bonus chapters earned this week. Here's hoping y'all earn even more!**

 **Review Prompt: How d'you think knowing will change Catherine's perception of her father? And who sent the chocolate?**

 **-C**


	35. Gang Aft A-Gley

Remus called it his animal instinct, his ability to sense when something bad was about to happen. When Justin Finch-Fletchley was mysteriously injured in his own common room (although Remus was willing to bet Catherine had something to do with it), he'd had a horrible sensation tingling on the surface of his skin all day. When Colin Creevey was nearly trampled to death, he'd had that same sensation, a feeling that seemed to permeate his body and erect the hairs on his skin.

He'd had it since waking, and he had a hard time looking at Sirius during breakfast.

"What's wrong, Moony?" Sirius asked. "Bad part of the cycle?"

Remus shook his head sharply, but he gave no answer as he spread marmalade on his toast.

Of course, there was no real reason that Catherine had to be responsible for whatever bad thing happened. Sirius had been far from responsible for everything that caused this sensation at school, or during the war. Why should his daughter always be the cause of it now? Still, patterns could not be ignored, and he schooled his expression to passivity as he focused inordinately on his breakfast.

Sirius was suspicious and perhaps concerned – how could he not be? Perhaps Severus noticed the behavior as well, although Remus knew that Severus would understand Remus's reticence to speak of the matter.

Catherine had been told, Remus learned, that she was not to use her Potions abilities against others or she would have her private lessons discontinued and her father would be involved. Remus was considering giving her some kind of ultimatum with his content as well – that ought to keep her from doing any serious harm – but he realized there was little he could hold over her head, unlike Severus. And what was more, after what happened to Hermione Granger, Remus recognized that the girls at the least were branching their pranks into the other parts of magical education. Transfiguration, Charms…. He had a horrible feeling that such talented girls in such a variety of areas between them could only lead to finding suitable loopholes to accomplish whatever it was they wanted done.

He glanced up to see Catherine sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Ryana Cotton, which to him was a sure sign that something was going to happen today. But who was she using, and who was the target? That she was distancing herself from the others in immediate memory suggested one of the other girls would cause whatever was to come – at least they would hold the wand that did the spell. But Catherine was responsible in the way that Harry was responsible. Just how more than eighty percent of the chaos in Remus's time at Hogwarts was a direct result of James's feud with Severus, at least eighty percent of this Prank War was a direct result of the competition between Harry and Catherine.

When Sirius left to get ready for his first class, Severus leaned in and said, "She's thinking of something, but the connection is too weak at this distance to see exactly what they're up to."

"But they are up to something," Remus said sadly. "I was hoping I was wrong, but then, I know her type too well. Harry seems oblivious."

Severus snorted, but said nothing. While he had some fondness for Harry, for Lily's sake, the fact that Harry looked like his father was as much a factor in his relationship with the boy as the fact that Catherine took after her mother. Visual reminders of James at twelve were bound not to be pleasant for Severus, whatever the current relationship.

"I can keep an eye on Ginny and Kitty," Remus said, rubbing his temples. "For the morning, at least. But I suppose the odds that they'll do something after lunch are higher."

"After dinner, I should think," Severus said softly. Remus quirked a questioning brow, and Severus said, "The Gryffindor second years have History of Magic after lunch. No matter who holds the wand, Catherine Black is not enough of a fool to schedule a prank outside her father's classroom. If she's as smart as I expect she is, it'll be well away from herself, and from her father."

Remus hummed, but he hoped Severus was wrong. He didn't want to have this feeling linger until after dinner.

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"So have we even got a chance?" Colin asked Ginny, who was explaining the Quidditch Cup possibilities to him on the way to Herbology. "It all sounds so tight."

"Basically, we're counting on Slytherin to lose on a big margin," Ginny said, frowning. "They're good this year. I mean, those new brooms Malfoy's dad bought for the team make an unfortunately significant difference."

Colin knew very little about brooms, being a bit afraid of heights, as many Muggle-borns are. Something about the unnaturalness about flying through the air makes many Muggle-borns leery of broomsticks. Still, he enjoyed listening to Ginny talk about them, as she was so passionate about it.

"D'you think we'll win?" he asked, holding open the greenhouse door for her.

"I certainly hope so," she said. "Harry's ridiculously good. And if all goes well…."

She cut off, frowning.

Colin knew better than to ask what that was all about. If Ginny decided not to say something to him, it almost certainly had to do with the Great Prank War, and it was more than his life was worth to interfere with that.

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Pansy Parkinson didn't like Wednesdays. Sure, Slytherin second years had the first and last periods free, but otherwise their time was taken up with Herbology with the Ravenclaws, Potions with the Gryffindors, and worst of all, Double Transfiguration. She not only had to have classes with students of other Houses, but then she had two stressful hours in her least-favorite course with her least-favorite teacher.

She sat down for her first class of the day just as the second period bell sounded, and Professor Sprout sidled in. Draco's nose twitched at the recognition of their potted mandrakes in the corner. Pansy agreed with this twitch.

Mandrakes were terrible.

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Brontes was tired of keeping his brother company, and so he decided to sit under the window of his mother's sitting room, listening through the open window to the admittedly boring conversation she was having over tea as he sketched the closest set of bushes.

Aunt Cara and Aunt Narcissa were over for tea, and there was apparently an issue at Malfoy Manor, with a bit of an eccentric house-elf.

"Dorcas would be pleased," Aunt Cara said dryly. "Still, I can't imagine Lucius will take that well."

"I should think not," Brontes heard his mother say, mildly scandalized.

"That's why I'm telling you, Cara," Aunt Narcissa said. "I've promised Dobby I'd see what his options were, and I thought you and Sirius might have so ideas."

"I'll talk with him about it over Easter and see what we can do," Aunt Cara said softly.

Brontes closed his eyes, smiling to himself. It was so funny, how Uncle Lucius thought he had final say and power in his home. It was perfectly clear to anyone who noticed anything that Narcissa Malfoy was the real power in that household.

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Potions was a bit of a weird experience. Pansy noticed right away that Draco made a beeline for Potter, whispering something to the Gryffindor that seemed to have some significance between them. Pansy saw that Potter's neck stiffened and his eyes seemed to darken, like he was steeling himself for something.

Pansy did not approve of Draco's strange almost-friendship with Potter and his cohort, although she did understand it to some extent. Draco's mother's family was friendly with Potter's family, and hence they would have seen each other at the Black events that Pansy's family wasn't invited to. She'd never set foot in Selwyn Manor, and she was terribly jealous of those few who did. It had been closed to all society events since about the time she was born, and rumor had grown more and more glamorous through the years.

She satisfied herself with the thought that one day she would marry Draco Malfoy and have a connection to those who would own the Manor. It seemed much more likely than marrying Professor Black's son, who was several years younger than her.

"The potion you are beginning today is on the board," Professor Snape's silky baritone voice said through the gloom of the dungeon as he swept into the room. "Take a moment to read it and begin in pairs. Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass, you will not be partnered today. I want Miss Greengrass with Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson with Mr. Zabini."

Pansy was disappointed on two counts, both with being separated from her best friend and being denied the opportunity to work with Draco. She settled into her spot with Blaise, who seemed irked at the inconvenience of working with her. Neither she nor Daphne was especially good at Potions, which was no doubt why they were separated.

"I'll do the chopping and measuring," Blaise said after reading the board. "You get the ingredients.

"I'm not touching the slugs," she said, horrified.

"Don't tell me Daphne did," he said, sneering at her. "You'll touch everything, and I'll touch everything, and you'll do it right the first time or so help me, Pansy, you'll regret it the rest of the year."

Pansy weighed this threat carefully as she walked to the storeroom to collect the ingredients. She wasn't sure what Blaise was capable of, or that he would do anything to her specifically. Sure, his mother was rumored to have murdered several husbands, but Blaise was only twelve, and bound to get caught if he tried to kill a classmate.

On the other hand, he was Draco's closest friend and confidant. If he were to stand between her and her chances with Draco…. Pansy could almost feel the blood drain from her face before she quickly and carefully counted out the slugs necessary for their potion. Best not take any chances.

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All anyone could talk about during lunch was Quidditch. The expectations were high, Hannah Abbott understood, for Harry Potter to win the Cup for Gryffindor. Even she, who had very little interest in the sport, understood that he was an incredible talent. The question of why they hadn't won the year before was a sad one, because it wasn't anyone's fault. But this year, Justin and Ernie were trying to explain to Susan, this year Potter and the Gryffindors were going to end the Slytherin win streak.

Hannah noticed that Catherine Black was listening with interest from down the table, where Ryana Cotton was chattering on about something that Catherine was very clearly not paying attention to. Hannah did not understand Catherine's relationship with Potter, which seemed both friendly and contentious at once.

"I think the Slytherin's brooms are something to consider," Hannah said softly. "They're like a team revived."

The boys paled at this – which was impressive, because Ernie was pretty pale to begin with. Hannah realized she'd ruined their optimistic tone, and she quickly smiled and said, "But then, I don't know much about Quidditch, do I? Susan, could you pass me the salmon ones, please?"

Satisfied that she wasn't bursting their bubble entirely, the boys went back to their intense calculations.

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After lunch, Pansy walked with Daphne up to Transfiguration, and she dragged her heels. Days later, she would still be glad that she was walking slowly. She didn't see what started the mess ahead of her, so she assumed it must have come from somewhere behind her, but it started with a curse that very clearly missed its target.

Well, more a jinx than a curse. She supposed that making someone spontaneously tap dance wasn't much of a curse. When Goyle, who had only just blocked Draco's path began to tap dance on the spot, and actually knocked over Draco into a wall, Slytherins froze, pulled out their wands, and began to scan the crowded corridor.

"Who did it?" Draco demanded, rubbing his head.

No one had seen, but a jumpy first year threw the first curse into the fray, and the duel began.

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Ron sat down beside Harry at the front of the History of Magic classroom, wishing they didn't feel the need to sit in the front of so many classes. This was what happened when your best friends were friendly with the teachers. Ron had done his assignment, of course, but two hours right in front of the teacher was not a way to be.

Suddenly, a very loud sound like a window blowing out came from somewhere below, and Professor Black, who had been about to say something to Harry, frowned, pulled out his wand, and said, "What was that?" The two boys frowned and shook their heads, and Professor Black ordered them to stay put in a shockingly firm voice before rushing out of the room.

/-/

Neville felt a rush of relief when Professor Black and Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall rushed forward. Students were throwing spells all over, and Hermione and Neville were putting up shields in front of younger students who looked too dazed and confused to defend themselves. Plenty of them weren't even in the Dueling Club, and thereby wouldn't have learned a Shield Charm yet.

Penelope Clearwater, who had been trying to get some of the incapacitated down the corridor and out of the chaos, had taken a very nasty curse, and just as Neville was about to see if she was alright, Hermione screamed and collapsed beside him, and he took her pulse. It was there, but faint. He put a shield between the pair of them and the rest of the battle and waited for the professors to clear the hall.

"Is she alright?" Neville asked when Professor Black lowered the shield and knelt to check on Hermione. "She just…she just collapsed. I didn't see what hit her, or who."

"Could have been anyone," Professor Black said darkly. "Looks like she got hit with a couple of spells at once that really shouldn't be mixed. Minerva," he called over his shoulder, "how's Miss Clearwater?"

"She'll need the infirmary," Professor McGonagall answered. "I'll get Poppy directly. You and Remus stay with the students."

Professor Black sighed, looking around the students as if searching for a particular face. When he breathed a small sigh, Neville realized he'd been looking for Catherine, who always seemed to be at the epicenter of chaos.

Professor Lupin came over and said, very softly so that only Professor Black and Neville could hear, "Just because someone isn't here, Sirius, doesn't mean they're not the cause. Or have you forgotten…?"

Professor Black gave an irritated hum of recognition, gestured with his elbow toward Neville, and then looked out through the crowd of abashed and injured students again. It was following his gaze that Neville finally saw them.

Rhea Prewett and Luna Lovegood were standing a little too close to the center of the matter for Neville's liking, and Rhea looked like she was about to faint. Neville curled his fingers into fists. Who was Catherine having them target, and why? Harry wasn't even in the corridor, and Neville hadn't been when the whole mess started. He usually took the other staircase; all the students going to History of Magic did.

Draco, Neville realized, had to be the target, but Neville really didn't know why. Unless….

Unless it had to do with Quidditch. He frowned, set the thought aside for later, and moved out of the way as Madam Pomfrey returned with Professor McGonagall, tittering under her breath about how dangerous and irresponsible it was for students to be using magic in the corridors. If Neville hadn't been so shaken, he might have laughed and reminded the matron that there was a rule that expressly forbade them doing it.

Just because a rule was in place, didn't mean it was going to be followed.

"Neville," Professor Black said, "go on to class and tell your classmates that I'll be a bit late. Don't say anything else. I'll be along shortly."

Neville wanted to argue, to stay, but he knew by the steel in Professor Black's eyes that there was no point trying. He said he understood and hurried to class.

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Ginny, Catherine, Rhea, and Luna sat silently at dinner, each avoiding each other's gaze, each paying special attention to the chicken. The mission had been a disaster, not least of all because Draco Malfoy was still fit to play for the upcoming Quidditch match.

A shiver ran down Ginny's spine as she realized that a few simple charms and jinxes designed to go together to incapacitate him long enough to have Slytherin have to forfeit had turned into a duel that Madam Pomfrey had declared could easily have turned deadly. Whatever that anonymous Slytherin sixth year did to Penelope Clearwater could have killed her, although whether or not he intended to was a debate rumored to be waging even now between Snape and Flitwick.

"I'm getting sort of tired," Ginny said softly, not looking up at Catherine. "There's so much that goes wrong."

"Not always," Catherine said stiffly.

"If something you do goes wrong enough to kill someone," Ginny said tightly, "or rather when, whether by your wand or by your orders or in reaction to something thereof, how are you going to look your father in the eye and explain that you never meant to cause any serious damage? How could you, after all the damage we've caused already?"

When Ginny finally looked up at her best friend, she was surprised to see that Catherine's usually unruffled expression was troubled as she glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where Harry sat between Ron and Neville, all three boys paler than usual. Hermione Granger was still in the hospital wing for an undetermined length of stay, barely conscious at best.

And Catherine Black was, bizarrely, speechless.

 **A/N: So, Hermione's in the infirmary again, Catherine's best laid plans gang aft a-gley, and someone's house-elf is looking for other employment. ;) Or rather, is looking for more lucrative employment. Brace yourselves for a catalogue of the Black Family house-elves.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were a house-elf, who would you rather have as a master/employer: Sirius, Lily/James, Dorcas, or Dumbledore? I'm leaning to Lily and James, myself.**

 **-C**


	36. Weight of it All

Spirits were low at Hogwarts. Luna did not meet Catherine's eye as the four girls walked back up to the castle after a disappointingly short Quidditch match.

Slytherin had, once again, won the Quidditch Cup in spite of Gryffindor's spectacular showing, and Catherine and Ginny were fuming.

Perhaps their prank could have stopped it, but Luna believed that Professor Snape would have managed to get a postponement somehow. It wasn't like they were going to do something big enough to end Draco's Quidditch career. Catherine wouldn't have wanted that, anyway.

Luna did not say anything. She thought about making a comment, but it didn't seem right. Catherine would be upset, and Ginny was certainly upset, and after a few hours they would be cooled down enough to be distracted from their pain. But for the moment, for the moment there was no consoling them.

And Rhea was trembling.

Professor Flitwick, kindly Professor Flitwick had interviewed all of his students who had been present during the hallway brawl, and Rhea had not taken it well. That Penelope and Hermione were still dealing with the aftereffects of their unfortunate situation was very heavy on both girls' consciences, but Rhea was taking it especially hard for some reason. Luna felt bad, but no permanent damage was done, and it wasn't as though they could have foreseen that a tap-dancing jinx would cause such chaos.

Really, it was Catherine's fault for starting this whole mess. It put everyone on edge, kept everyone expecting the worse when spells flew in the corridors. Luna told herself firmly as they stepped back inside the castle that she wasn't going to do it again. Friendship was nice, and important, but if Ginny and Catherine would persist in pushing the other two into this madness, at least Luna would always have Rhea. Rhea, sweet Rhea, who reminded Luna of her father with his need to be watched over and cared for.

Luna blinked as she mounted the marble staircase. Apart from letters, she hadn't given her father much thought of late. Was he alright? _The Quibbler_ had been coming out as usual, and still with her father's name at the top. Perhaps he wasn't eating well, or sleeping as much as he should, but she knew that at least he was alive and writing.

Luna and Rhea said words of parting to Ginny as they went in different directions, toward their separate towers, and Rhea said softly, "I feel responsible."

"You're not. It wasn't our business anyway."

"Why d'you think Kitty wanted Gryffindor to win so badly? I mean, Ginny I understand, but Kitty doesn't really have anything against Slytherin."

The girls walked in silence for some time, but Luna expected it was all more complicated than that. Catherine didn't hate Harry Potter. From what Luna could tell over Christmas, they were actually very close. And that was the real puzzle. Why keep almost killing or maiming people who weren't involved just to win a war against someone they really didn't have any problems with?

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Rubbing his forehead and desperately trying to ignore his sister, Jason breathed in through his nose and sharply pushed it out.

"Please."

He really didn't want to take her dare. He knew that they would get into more trouble than either of them could possibly imagine. There were certain rooms that were off-limits – though not many – and certain things they weren't to touch, and while their father and mother were very forgiving, Jason knew from the tone of their father's voice when such things were discussed that this was not something likely to be forgiven.

"Caro, no. Let's just leave it."

"You're no fun. Kitty would do it."

Somehow, Jason doubted that, but then he had to wonder. Catherine could often be goaded into any number of irresponsible and ill-advised things.

"Don't be a coward, Jason."

His nostrils flared, he snatched up a candle, and he led the way stiffly to their father's study, ignoring Caroline's chirps of triumph.

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Satisfied.

Draco was satisfied at the win, and how his parents had been there to see him hold up the Quidditch Cup. Hopefully, the points earned toward the House Cup would secure it for Slytherin this year.

He would have liked to have longer with his mother, but the few moments he had would have to be sufficient. He did notice, bitterly, the angry look on Catherine's face as she passed him. He supposed she wanted Gryffindor to win the Cup, for her father. As he walked toward the Slytherin Common Room, he felt a strange tingling on the back of his neck. Although he didn't hear anyone behind him, someone was there.

"I hope you enjoyed the match, Adra," he said, figuring no one else he knew was that silent.

His cousin walked in step with him, her head tossed back slightly.

"It was a good win," she said, "and quick, which is always best. Have you spoken to Catherine lately?"

"You see her more often than I do."

Her nostrils flared slightly, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. However often the two girls saw each other throughout their routines, he knew that Catherine had fully replaced Adrasteia with her new friends, and Adrasteia was not taking this well.

The girl said nothing as they walked into the Common Room.

"I need a favor," he said softly.

"I don't give favors. What do I get out of whatever it is?"

"I'll do your Charms essay."

"I'm listening."

His jaw twitched with irritated amusement.

"I need someone to keep me company, keep Parkinson at bay." The way Adrasteia's expression tightened for the briefest of moments told him that he found Pansy just as disagreeable. "You can join me and Blaise by the fireplace, and be my excuse for telling her to bugger off."

"What good does my presence do?" Adrasteia asked, curious.

Draco said nothing. Slytherins didn't learn their art by asking and answering. They learned by looking and listening. She would learn soon enough, and it wasn't his burden to consider. She joined him at the fireplace with no argument.

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James didn't have a problem with Dumbledore, but it always made him uncomfortable to have the man in his house. Once he poured them both tea, he waited anxiously for some kind of explanation for the visit, especially visiting while Lily was at work.

"Harry will no doubt tell you soon," Dumbledore said after a long drink of his tea, "that Gryffindor has again lost the Quidditch Cup."

"Damn," James hissed, disappointed. He had been praying that Slytherin wouldn't pull it out, but those stupid brooms Lucius bought weren't anything to sniff at. He wondered if he could get away with buying brooms for the Gryffindor team. Surely Lily would understand.

"But that is not why I am here today. I am here because I am concerned about the behavior of certain students. Has anyone told you about what the students are calling the Great Prank War?"

At this, James perked up with interest. He wasn't sure what exactly it meant, but he rather liked the sound of it. He shook his head, and listened with great interest to Dumbledore describe what had started as innocent pranking between two cliques (didn't take many guesses which cliques) and had grown into something completely out of control.

James's excitement melted and wilted slightly. Harry and Catherine had taken their silly feud and it went out of control. Unfortunately, he didn't think either of them would stop and think until they were effected directly.

They had too much of their fathers and not enough of their mothers in them.

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Hermione tried not to think about how the common room felt like a funeral. Ginny had retreated to her dormitory, and after watching anxiously after her for a few minutes, Colin Creevey had retreated up to his own dormitory. Hermione had thought about going up to see Ginny, but she didn't feel ready to climb the stairs without support yet. Mostly, she was fine, except sometimes she got unsteady, and staircases still made her nervous.

"It's really not fair," Hermione said bracingly. "He's not even that good. He's just got a rich father."

"He's not that bad," Harry said darkly, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. "No, there's no one to blame but me. I didn't play to my best ability this year."

"You've been a bit distracted," Neville said darkly.

A chilling silence fell over the group sitting by the window, and Harry looked out on the grounds. Hermione ached to ask him if it was worth it, this stupid fight with Catherine Black, but even if it had been the right time to ask, it wouldn't have come out right after everything she'd suffered from the stupid Great Prank War.

Neville understood; she could see it in his eyes when they shared a glance. This had to stop, and it had to stop soon. There was only so much of this any friendship could take.

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Severus was just pouring himself a celebratory drink when he heard a knock at the door to his quarters. He frowned.

"Enter."

Remus came in, his eyes gold and flashing. He was coming to get his potion, of course, and Severus gestured to the steaming goblet nearby, but once Remus had downed it with a pulled face he said, "We need to talk."

"Oh?"

"About Kitty."

Severus sighed and nodded, downing his own drink in one before sitting down with Remus Lupin. It just would be Sirius Black's child causing so much trouble. It just would have to be.

/-/

Blaise didn't exactly dislike Adrasteia Lestrange, but she wasn't the kind of girl he wanted to spend time with. She was the sort of girl Draco thought was worthwhile, someone self-assured and "classy" (which was code, Blaise thought, for snooty). Blaise was much more interested in girls who could make a joke about themselves, have a bit of fun, laugh. He was especially interested in girls who didn't mind getting a bit dirty, else what was the point in them? Women didn't exist to live in a glass box. They were just as human as anyone else.

To him, Adrasteia wasn't a girl, but a collector's doll, an idea of what a girl should be. It didn't seem natural, and it didn't seem comfortable, and when he wasn't exasperated with her, he felt a bit sorry for her. It couldn't be pleasant, living for everyone who was watching.

Still, her presence kept away Pansy, and she was vastly preferable to Pansy Parkinson. Even just by being better looking, she improved the atmosphere.

"So why are you agreeing to sit with us?" he finally asked.

"Draco's agreed to…aid me in Charms."

Blaise's lips twitched at the blatant offer to cheat for her. Draco must have had more issues with Pansy than Blaise realized, if he was willing to take such extreme measures so soon. They had five years left with the girl. He couldn't do all of Adrasteia's assignments for the next five years in Charms, although perhaps the notion seemed agreeable now. Blaise would have to have words with his friend on the matter.

"Did you enjoy the match?" she asked in that charming, silly way women spoken when they wanted to seem cultured. Blaise's mother was one of the few women who could pull off such a voice, and coming from a young girl it just sounded absurd.

"I don't care much for Quidditch," Blaise said honestly, glancing at a smirking Draco. "I imagine you don't, either?"

"Oh, you imagine correctly," Adrasteia said, her brow eyes flashing with amusement. "But I happen to love winning."

Sometimes the upper echelons of pureblood society made Blaise laugh. They judged his mother for her behavior, which no one could prove and she had been completely acquitted of each time she became a widow again. They smiled about it to her face or Blaise's face, but he knew they were all talking about it, scandalized behind his back. But here they were, just as bad. They would do anything to win, to be on top, to get their prizes.

Some of them had, in the war.

What right did Adrasteia, or Draco, or any other elite person have to judge the Zabini clan? Surely their parents had done terrible things during the war, worse than anything his mother had allegedly done.

Blaise accepted a thimble of gin from one of the older students distributing minute quantities of alcohol to younger students to celebrate the big win.

Adrasteia Lestrange downed hers in one, and Blaise frowned, sipping his slowly, feeling the burn in the back of his throat.

Hypocrites, all.

/-/

It seemed, in the months since Christmas, that Cora Prewett's mother had a new lease on life. Not to say that she wasn't still hideously busy with whatever project she was working on, but there was a new spring in her step, a new sense of mastery.

Cora had seen this before. It meant, she had come to understand, that whatever the primary and most dangerous obstacle had been, it was cleared away and the rest of the path to the end goal was a dawdle by comparison. Cora liked to think that her mother was conquering some grand evil, but the thought also scared her, so she told herself that whatever her mother was up to now, it was small and manageable and perfectly reasonable.

Uncle Gideon visited for dinner one night and Cora asked him if he felt better about things. He knew what she meant, and he tweaked her nose lovingly.

"Never you worry about your mum, Cora," he told her kindly. "She's one of the greatest witches of her time, you know."

"Mum?" Cora said, perking up with interest. "Really?"

"Order of Merlin."

"How?"

He smiled sadly and said, "I expect she'll tell you someday, when you're older. No, don't give me that lip, missy. It's not my story to tell. Let's play gobstones, eh? What d'you think? Go get your siblings."

Cora did as she was told, but for many months she would turn over her uncle's cryptic statement and wonder what her mother could have done to earn such a big honor.

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Narcissa sat at the end of the long dining room table at Malfoy Manor, watching her husband as he sat smugly at the other end, smirking to himself. She had half a mind to remind him that it wasn't his brooms that won the match, but the talent of the Slytherin Chasers. Narcissa wasn't especially proficient in Quidditch, but a few fewer scores from Marcus Flint and Gryffindor would certainly have won, brooms or no brooms.

Still, she was pleased that Slytherin had won, both as a Slytherin and as the mother of the Seeker. Never mind that her husband had blatantly bought Draco's way onto the team. She was fairly certain he would have gotten the position anyway, and he did catch the Snitch, after all. It would be difficult for his team to win if he couldn't do his job.

"I've been thinking," Lucius said slowly. "Ever since Rabastan aided in flushing out Dolores…"

He trailed off as Narcissa failed to hold in her sigh of exasperation. She had never liked that terrible woman, and she'd seen it as a positive when Rabastan aided Dorcas Prewett in flushing her out of the Ministry. It had nothing to do with politics. Narcissa simply believed that people so grubby and disagreeable should not be allowed to hold power.

"Whatever you're about to say," she told her husband coolly, "don't. Do not forget, my dear, the causes we support. Be glad Dolores is out of the Ministry, if only for the sake of my charities."

He frowned at her, but said nothing, and this suited Narcissa just fine.

/-/

Delia poured herself more wine and frowned across the table at her husband. He had brought work with him to the table, which he never did, and her sons were curious, each trying to crane their necks to see what Rabastan was up to. It was ridiculous, Delia thought, that Dorcas Prewett had sucked her husband into this mess that she was instigating in the Ministry. Just when Delia had been assured that her husband's involvement would be over when that Umbridge woman was taken care of, Rabastan actually began getting _interested_ in this cause. It was just so typical of him.

"Darling," she said, trying not to sound irritated, "couldn't you put that away for an hour?"

Her sons, who had looked at her while she was speaking, turned their heads to look at their father as they awaited his response. Rabastan quirked an eyebrow without looking up from the papers he was examining.

"I am going to read these papers straight through," he said, pouring himself another glass of water. "If you have a problem with that, my dear, you could certainly endeavor to hold a conversation with me. I am perfectly capable of such things."

She so preferred when she had to physically pull him from his sculptures before meals. At least he couldn't bring those to the table.

/-/

Narcissa dabbed her hands with a special oil she prepared, with lavender and sesame oil. Severus told her that it wouldn't actually stop her skin from aging, but she told herself it would help, and Narcissa knew well enough that power of positive thinking could be incredible. Still, she was beginning to see the signs of aging. She looked at her reflection in her mirror and frowned at the thin lines that tried to hide in the shadowy corners of her face. They seemed deeper than she expected, longer than she expected, every time she looked at them. Cara didn't have these lines, and she had three children for Merlin's sake!

But Narcissa supposed her lines had nothing to do with motherly cares, but the years of fear and cautiously neutral expressions. Stress lines.

She closed her eyes, dabbed the oil tenderly on her face, and wished with all her heart.

 **A/N: This, like other bonus chapters, has been brought to you by the reviewing power of** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **! Everyone say thank you! And seriously, the catch-up game is over, so you'd better start reviewing in force if you want more bonus chapters in the coming weeks… 10 reviews between chapter updates earns a bonus chapter!**

 **Review Prompt: How long-term would we say this arrangement between Adra and Draco is?**

 **-C**


	37. Admonishment

Harry felt his insides squirm as he stood in Dumbledore's office. Perhaps he would have sat, but there were so many of them standing there, waiting to be lectured, that perhaps it would have been difficult to properly fit in all the chairs.

Neville and Ron were called in as well, and Catherine was standing on the other side of the room with Ginny, Luna, and Rhea. Harry licked his lips. Somehow, Dumbledore knew without a shadow of a doubt what the real base of the Great Prank War was.

"I have spoken with your parents," he said softly, calmly.

It was that tone parents used to say, "I'm disappointed in you," when you really would have preferred them to scream about how angry they were. Disappointment was just so much heavier of a blow somehow, and one that sort of settled in your stomach, lingering far longer than the sting of anger.

"Sir?" Catherine said, uncharacteristically anxious. Harry glanced at her and saw that she'd gone a bit pale.

"I visited Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore continued, as though not hearing her, "and Madam Longbottom, Mrs. Weasley" – Ron shrank and rolled his shoulders forward while Ginny seemed to want to melt into the furniture – "and Mr. Lovegood. I paid a very interesting visit to Mr. Prewett," he said, smiling absently to himself, "and yes, Miss Black, I sat down and had a talk with your father."

Harry closed his eyes. He could imagine his father's disappointment, but he'd earned it before. As far as Harry knew, Catherine had never disappointed Uncle Sirius, and he could only begin to imagine how upset this made her. But surely she knew that he knew. Surely she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to discuss the matter with him.

"I recognize that the seriousness of your actions does not always settle with you," he said softly, "but I want to impress upon you that even as young as you are, consequences can be permanent."

He pulled out a book on the shelf and took a photograph out of it, setting it on his desk before them. They craned for a look at it.

A young woman, maybe a girl of seventeen or so, smiling nervously with pale eyes and sandy-colored hair. She seemed anxious.

"This is Mary MacDonald," Professor Dumbledore said. "A student here about fifteen, twenty years ago. She was an average student with a very kind heart, and she was living during the war."

Harry's stomach dropped slightly. He could recognize where this was headed, although he didn't know what it had to do with him.

"Friends of hers were pranksters, not unlike yourselves." He smiled for a moment. "In a great many ways, not unlike yourselves. Of course, their targets did not take the pranking well, and pranking became dueling rather quickly, as I am sure you can all understand by now." Several of the students nodded their heads in understanding. "This was why we thought the Dueling Club might be good for you, to give you an outlet, but I see it was not enough."

He touched the photograph thoughtfully and said, "She suffered an Unforgivable Curse in her fifth year when a pranking incident got out of hand. Nothing could ever be proven, which happens at times in chaos, as I know you are all aware. And in her seventh year, she was killed. The pranks had become duels, which had become an extension of the war, and she was a Muggle-born, a weak link in her friends' infrastructure. It is not always the guilty, you know, who suffer."

Catherine's spine straightened and Harry saw her eyes go wide as she looked at the girl's face.

Perhaps she didn't see what Harry saw. Fifteen, twenty years ago? Student during the war? That was when their parents were at school. Their parents might have known this girl, probably did. Suddenly he looked over at Rhea Prewett, who looked like she was about to faint, and he thought of how Hermione Granger had nearly been permanently damaged by an accidental mixing of two mostly harmless jinxes.

"I expect all of you to comport yourselves better in future," Professor Dumbledore said sternly. "To tear others down is easy, and it is even easier to lose control. You have it within your power, each of you, to do great things with your talents. Should this war continue, I will take action. I have approval from all of your parents to do whatever I think is necessary to secure your safety, and the safety of those in your crossfire. I expect you to rise to this challenge as I know you can, and choose to make peace with each other. You are dismissed."

/-/

Pansy Parkinson found Adrasteia Lestrange to be inconvenient and mildly infuriating. Just when Pansy thought she would be able to get close to Draco, Adrasteia had swept in and entrenched herself in his friend group, squeezing out the small opening Pansy had seen. It was so clear that the two girls could barely be in a room together civilly that Pansy was beginning to despair.

"We've got years before you'd marry him anyway," Daphne said lazily. "She'll get bored with them. Or she'll date some bloke her age and the opening will be back. Just relax."

But Pansy was not a patient girl.

/-/

Harry half expected to get a Howler from his mother, but nothing came. He toyed with the idea of sending a letter, maybe a sort of apology or explanation, but what good would it do?

He also thought about getting out his mirror and having a chat with Catherine, but he still had that weight in his stomach from the way they'd been chastised. He wasn't ready to make the first steps toward peace yet, and the fact that she hadn't tried to call him said that she wasn't ready yet, either.

Instead, Harry tried, in vain, to do a bit of homework. Anything but look the issue in the face.

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Unable to be with Catherine, Rhea, and Luna at the moment, Ginny sat on her bed and tried to think about her Potions homework. Really, she preferred doing her homework with Catherine there because Catherine was disgustingly good at Potions, but right now they all needed a bit of space from each other.

Ginny could just imagine the Howler she was going to get, and she was sure Ron would be getting one too, when their mother got around to chastising them for their part in the whole mess of the Great Prank War. Ginny supposed she would have to sit down and talk to Colin, and Neville would likely already be filling in Hermione. But no one, no other person on either side, could make any decisions until their generals spoke – until Harry and Catherine decided to make peace.

They had to, Ginny thought, flipping through her textbook for information on algae. After that speech from Dumbledore, which had very clearly disturbed both Catherine and Harry, how could any of them entertain the idea of continuing this stupid battle?

Ginny could barely look Hermione Granger in the eye anymore, and the second issue wasn't even her fault! She hadn't even been at the massive corridor duel. Luna had told Ginny that Rhea was having nightmares, when she even got to sleep properly, and was afraid to go to Madam Pomfrey about it because she might accidentally get herself or one of her friends into trouble.

But their carefulness had been for naught. Whatever Dumbledore could or couldn't prove, he knew who was responsible. That was the only reason for calling in all of them, and not simply Harry and Catherine. He was making it clear that he knew every detail of their networks, and if there was another issue he'd probably call in Hermione, Colin, Fred and George, maybe even Malfoy. Anyone who'd done them a favor, loaned them a book, taught them a spell. Anyone who had served as an alibi or patsy, they'd be called in as well.

No, there could be no continuing the Great Prank War, but the blow to the pride of both leaders would be extensive. To make peace, they would have to call it a draw, and that either of them – much less both of them – had to walk away without being able to say they won….

Ginny supposed she'd eat with Colin for a while, at the far end of the Gryffindor table, just in case. Catherine and Harry could both be problematic when they were upset, and they were bound to be upset at the moment.

She dipped her quill carefully in her tilted ink well, cautious not to shift her mattress too extensively and spill her ink. It was so expensive to buy more, and she didn't want to write her essays on the charity of her much wealthier friends. Gently, she began to write her essay on the properties of algae within basic potions.

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Luna watched Rhea wring her hands anxiously. She'd gone especially pale, and Luna tried to make her eat some chocolate, but Rhea hadn't touched any food since they were in Dumbledore's office.

"My dad will be so upset with me," she said softly, pulling slightly at her hair. Luna wanted to stop her, but she knew that if she did Rhea would only start up again in a few minutes. "I'm supposed to be the good child, the calm one. My sister is supposed to be the one to do crazy and unhealthy and even dangerous things."

"We've all done something stupid at some point," Luna said shrugging. "I'll bet Dumbledore had his share of crazy and unhealthy and dangerous choices. Maybe more than his share, since he's done so much."

Rhea frowned as though what Luna said didn't make any sense, but she didn't argue. Rhea rarely argued. Instead she stood, began pacing, and said, "D'you think Kitty's going to extend the olive branch?"

"I'm not sure Kitty's an olive branch sort of person," Luna mused. "But it does seem more practical and probable than a white flag."

Again, Rhea seemed slightly puzzled by what Luna said, and then she shook her head, began pacing again, and said, "I guess we just have to wait and see. And hope."

"Indeed."

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Jason cringed, looking over the things in their father's study. He wished he'd never let his little sister talk him into this invasion of their father's privacy, but he hated being called a coward. Caroline knew this, of course, and she pulled it out of her bag of tricks when she knew there was no other way to get what she wanted. Caroline, much like Catherine, always got what she wanted.

"Can you read this?" she asked, holding up a book with handwriting that looked quite a bit like their father's.

"No," he said, flipping through the pages. "It's in shorthand, or some kind of code."

"I didn't know Daddy could write in code."

Jason wanted to make some retort about how they were violating their father's space, but he bit it back. She'd have some counterargument, to be certain, something to make him feel small.

She held up a little silver key, turning it over.

"What's this, d'you think?" she asked.

"A key," he said. When she stuck out her tongue, he sighed, and took it in his hands, turning it over. "A door key. One of the rooms. I've not seen this one, though."

"Must be the sitting room," she said, eyes wide. "The one we're not allowed in."

Caroline's eyes brightened, and Jason shook his head firmly.

"No way. Dad would be furious. We're not allowed."

"Jason, don't be a cow—"

With a growl, Jason led the way out of the study, his neck stiff with anger.

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Hermione touched her fingertips to Neville's fingers bracingly.

"They'll do the right thing," she said confidently when he finished explaining the very awkward meeting with Professor Dumbledore.

He frowned.

"How do you know?"

"Because deep down," she said softly, "they're good people. They've gotten carried away with their pride and everything, but they'll do the right thing."

Neville hummed, but she knew he was skeptical. In truth, Hermione didn't feel as sure as she sounded.

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Caroline watched her brother light some candles in brass candelabras and she stepped into the room. On the walls was quite a massive, elaborate tapestry.

"The Noble and Most An-see-ent House of Black."

"Ancient," Jason corrected, leaning over part of the wall. "This goes back ages."

"Look, there's Auntie Narcissa!" Caroline said, pointing to the name and face of Narcissa Malfoy. "And Uncle Lucius, and Draco."

"So that's them," Jason said, and he frowned at the name Bellatrix, who was apparently Narcissa's sister, and the burn mark between them. "And their parents…. There's our grandparents. Orion and Wal-Walburga."

"That's awful," Caroline sniffed, craning her neck for a better look. "What's that?"

The name Regulus, the name of their father's brother (Caroline only knew he was lost in the war) and a burn mark were side by side.

"I think that's Dad," Jason said, frowning. "And we're…we're not here."

"What does that mean?"

But her brother didn't answer, and Caroline wasn't sure why, but she felt a terrible, deep sadness such as she had never felt before.

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Hermione knocked on the door to Ginny's dormitory, wanting to find out if the girl was okay. At first there was no answer, but then Ginny meekly said hello, and Hermione let herself in.

Ginny was sitting on her bed, slaving over an essay that seemed to be causing her great distress.

"D'you want me to…" Hermione shrugged. "D'you want some help with that?"

The younger girl shook her head, rubbing the side of her nose anxiously. Then Hermione realized it wasn't the essay that was troubling Ginny, but the situation with the Great Prank War. Hermione moved the girl's ink well to the side table and sat down at the foot of her bed.

"Neville told me everything," she said. "It must have been terrible, a meeting like that with Professor Dumbledore."

"I still have to tell Colin," Ginny said solemnly. "I suppose Colin has to hear about it soon. Thankfully we didn't have any operations being worked on but…."

Ginny shrugged, looking down at her half-written essay. Hermione knew it was a bit sloppier than Professor Snape would want to accept, but she said nothing. She just watched and waited for Ginny to say something else. After a long silence between them, Ginny, not looking up, said, "I'm a bit tired of the feuding."

"I expect the others are, as well," Hermione said. "It's a tiring business, fighting."

The two girls spoke for a little while about nothing at all, as young girls are sometimes capable of doing, and Hermione did give Ginny some advice on her essay, which was about algae. It wasn't the easiest essay of first year, certainly. In fact, Professor Snape's essays were usually the most difficult.

After a while the two girls sat in companionable silence until Hermione assured Ginny that sooner or later, Catherine and Harry were going to have to speak, and peace was really the only option when they did.

"They're pretty stubborn," Ginny said skeptically, scratching the side of her nose again. "But yeah, I suppose they were always going to have to make peace eventually. And now that their fathers have been drawn into it, I don't suppose they've got much choice."

"Do their fathers get on?" Hermione asked, standing and smoothing her skirt. Somehow, she envisioned massive feuding, like with their children.

"Oh, wonderfully," Ginny said, smirking. "They're best friends, actually. They're each other's kids' godparents. Yeah, I know. It really doesn't make much sense, does it, this whole mess?"

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Ourania watched her mother through the window, talking softly but quickly with her father on one of their rare days off work together. Ourania kicked back and forth gently on the swing her father had set up in the back yard, but she wasn't paying attention to her swinging. She was trying to read her parents' lips.

Thus far, she could only tell that her father had asked if anything was ever enough, but she hadn't been able to make out her mother's response. It wasn't a fight, not exactly, but something was upsetting her father.

It had to do with her mother's work, she knew, but Ourania pursed her lips and tried to focus on the words her parents were saying. Even it meant nothing to her, it might mean something to Cora, who was making a bit of a study of their mother's behavior. Her mother said something about a locket, and this caused her father to blanch slightly. Ourania craned her neck, expecting him to say something after his long pause. Instead he nodded, sharply and shortly, and wrapped her mother up in a hug, letting her head rest at the base of his neck as he cuddled her.

Ourania made a gagging sound with her throat and threw herself off the swing, rushing forward to keep her momentum going as she ran after where Cora and Damon were watering the flowerbeds in the front of the house.

"Has Mummy got a locket?" Ourania asked. "Only she just said something to Daddy about a locket and he seemed quite shocked."

"Have you been spying on them again?" Damon said disapprovingly.

"Oh, don't pretend both of you haven't done it," Ourania sniffed. "Anyway, I wasn't listening it, just watching, and that's hardly the same thing."

The twins turned to their older sister, with the expectation that she would solve the dispute for them, or perhaps know something about this mysterious locket.

"I really don't know," she said, frowning. "But I guess we can always look whenever Uncle Gideon babysits next. I'll keep him busy."

Ourania made Cora shake on it, which she'd seen on a film once, and the matter was settled.

 **A/N: Going to Canada with MissRoseAlanaHorton today, so I prepared this chapter while I was on the train up to meet her last night. Apologies if there are typos.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you think Harry and Kitty will choose to resolve their issue? And will it be a peace, a stalemate, or something else? (Don't wanna wait a week to find out? Ten reviews gets you a bonus!)**

 **-C**


	38. Forbidden

As far as Sirius knew, since Albus sat down with the children and gave them a proper chastisement, there hadn't been any overtures of peace between Catherine and Harry. Granted, there hadn't seemed to be any outright statements of war, either, so Sirius supposed he would take what he could get.

"I worry about her, Moony," Sirius said, rubbing his eyes. It was raining again, springtime in Scotland. "She's too much like me."

"And he's way too much like James," Remus said, sitting by the fireplace, reading essays. "You two never had these problems."

"We couldn't afford to fight," Sirius said, his eyebrows twitching. "I didn't have anything else, and James would have considered it a waste of energy, with the battles going on outside Hogwarts. And sometimes inside Hogwarts."

"The drawbacks of a peaceful, happy childhood, I suppose," Remus said, scratching his chin and looking up. "Sirius, how good are you at reading Ron's handwriting?"

"Ron Weasley? I'm okay at it. Severus doesn't even try, you know. He reads what he can at first glance and takes off points accordingly for what he can't read."

"Lucky Ron that we're not Severus, then, eh?" Remus said, smirking. He handed Sirius the essay and stretched his arms and back, looking out at the rain. "If it's any consolation, Kitty's doing brilliantly in my class."

"She ought to," Sirius said darkly.

Remus didn't answer, but he didn't have to. The two men understood the reason Catherine bothered to study was to win, to beat Harry, and it was the reason Harry had started studying as well. As long as they kept their feud to their scores, though, Sirius supposed he could handle it.

"Have you figured out who all gave her valentines yet?"

"Hmm? Oh, no," Sirius said. He passed back the essay and said, "I think this says hag, but you're right, looks a bit like 'but', doesn't it? No, I've figured out that George Weasley sent one of them, but he didn't bother disguising his handwriting. What's bugging me is who sent her that chocolate bar. That's the kind of thing James didn't start doing until he started actually dating Lily. That's sensitive information, isn't it, Moony? Favorite chocolates, favorite flowers, rubbish like that."

Remus's lips twitched and he said, "You don't call it rubbish when you're getting chocolates for your children and planting the gardens to please your wife and daughters. I wouldn't panic until someone gives her a bouquet of poppies. They could have gotten a lucky guess on the chocolate."

Sirius hummed, but he rubbed his eyes again and looked back out over the grounds. He could scarcely see them through the rain, which was becoming thicker and heavier. He knew that being a father would be a responsibility, and that it would only get harder as they got older, but he really hadn't been prepared for this part. He supposed he'd always imagined that Catherine and Caroline would be asexual until some polite, suitable husband came around when they turned thirty, and then they'd have his blessing.

Possibly.

It certainly wasn't turning out that way.

"D'you think I should pressure them to make peace?" Sirius asked, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Or maybe Prongs and I could come at them from both sides, talk them into it."

"Do you remember what happened when I suggested to James that he'd be better off not charming Lily's skirt to fly up whenever she came down the steps fourth year?"

Sirius grinned, remembering how furious Lily had been every time James did that, but he understood Remus's analogy. Best not push two very stubborn children on something and get their backs up. They'd achieve peace on their own terms, or it wouldn't be a lasting one. But all the waiting was just so _hard_.

/-/

James cleaned away the cups and plates as the two women pored over Dorcas's notes gleefully.

"This is exactly what we need," Lily said excitedly. "James, come look at this. Dorcas has exactly what we need! Where did you get this?"

"Journals stolen by one Gilderoy Lockhart," Dorcas said bitterly, "from their rightful owner, studying werewolf colonies on the continent. I thought you might be able to get some use out of it. I've certainly got all I can."

James raised his eyebrows, looking down at the lists and shorthand notes. He'd never learned to read shorthand, although Lily and Sirius and Dorcas and Gideon all used it during the war to keep Order records. He'd tried, but he hadn't gotten much out of his efforts.

"What is it, love?"

Lily looked up at him with shining eyes and said, "I think with a bit of help from Sev, this could give our team the breakthrough we need to make that next step with the Wolfsbane potion."

Since this had been Lily's obsession for some time, James expressed his happiness and steeled himself for many nights alone while his wife worked late on the puzzle.

/-/

Sirius licked his lips and watched his daughter walk into the library. He had half a mind to follow her in, knowing that Harry had just gone in a moment ago. Should he make sure they didn't do anything foolish?

No, Remus was right. He had to let them make their choices, to give them a chance to make the right ones. He took a deep breath and forced his steps away from the library. As hard as it was, he needed to let them grow up. No one had looked over his shoulder for seven years – except Remus – and it wouldn't do his daughter any good if he spent the next seven years looking over her shoulder and trying to control her and tell her what to do. He would watch from a distance, and if he was lucky she would turn out to be more like her mother than she was thus far proving.

A thought struck him at the end of the corridor that Caroline was bound to be more difficult, and he groaned audibly.

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Blaise sat on his bed, ignoring the coolness of the room as he flipped through his History of Magic notes.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, wrinkling his pale nose slightly. "Have you forgotten that we've got a chess match to win?"

"I haven't forgotten," Blaise said, closing the notes and setting them aside. "I'm just using as much time as possible for revising, Draco. And if you don't want to lose out to Granger again, I suggest you do the same."

It was a low blow, but Blaise really didn't care. Sometimes people responded best to toughness.

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Harry looked up at Catherine, who sat across from him with her haughty expression and perfectly combed long, dark hair, and he had a flicker of an emotional tangle he didn't know how to untangle, and it passed when her nostrils flared.

"So," she said. "Are you going to surrender?"

Harry snorted.

"That's not making peace, Kitty. You can do better than that."

"Well, I'm not surrendering," she said stiffly. "I was winning."

He couldn't really argue with that. Still, he wasn't about to admit defeat, not even now when he knew there was no future for their fight. There had to be a way to settle winning and losing without getting the whole thing dragged out again.

"Let's settle this," he said softly, "with a dare."

Her eyes sparkled and she cocked her head.

"I'm listening."

"We do something daring, and the first person to chicken or get caught loses, and truce from there on out. Agreed?"

Catherine turned over the terms, looking up at the bookshelf thoughtfully. He could see her upper lip shifting as she drew her tongue over her upper teeth under the skin.

"It has merit," she said slowly. "What's our dare?"

"What's forbidden that isn't really pranking?"

"Nothing from Dueling Club," she said hastily. Harry nodded. Neither wanted to be kicked out of it, and neither wanted to disappoint Uncle Sirius further than they no doubt already had. "What about…breaking into Filch's office?"

"Small-time," Harry said with a snort. "The Weasley Twins do that all the time." He scratched his nose. "We could skip class or something."

He knew it was a bad idea before she even opened her mouth indignantly, and he waved off her disapproval.

Then she said, grinning, "Forbidden Forest."

"What about it?" he asked, frowning.

"We see who can go in the furthest," she said calmly. "Without getting scared, and without getting caught."

His stomach turned with foreboding, and he knew at once that this was a terrible, terrible idea, but she had that look that showed that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He hated that look, hated that she knew him well enough to read his mind and feel superior to him. She wasn't superior, wasn't half as brilliant as she thought, and he was going to prove it to her. He was going to show her. After all, he'd been Sorted into Gryffindor, and she was just a Hufflepuff.

"You're on," he said firmly. "Get your cloak and meet me outside in twenty minutes."

She didn't even comment on the weather, and Harry could feel his heart pound with exhilaration as he rushed upstairs to get his cloak.

/-/

Dorcas flipped through her notes, written in careful shorthand. She'd stopped using shorthand during the war, but with the heightened interest in her work after Umbridge's dismissal that had not been so keen in years, she felt the need to protect her findings until she was ready to release them. Perhaps she was being overly cautious, but she told herself over and over again how not being quite cautious enough had nearly lead to her death during the war, and if not for some very good timing on the part of Cara Black, both Sirius and Dorcas would almost certainly be dead.

With a shiver, she pushed aside the insidious memories of that night, memories that came through in moments of darkness of mind. She set aside her notes and rubbed her temples.

"Dove?"

She looked up at the doorway to her study and saw Fabian watching her with caring concern, and expression he had worn a great deal of late.

"It's fine," she said, forcing a tired smile. "I think it's just time for bed. Are you tired enough to join me?"

He said nothing, watching her as she quickly packed up her things for the night so she would be ready to go to the office in the morning. She placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth, and ignored his worried expression as she walked past him, down the hall to their bedroom. Everything would be fine, eventually.

/-/

Harry could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest when Catherine met him at the front steps, her hood pulled up over her head, but her dark hair visible, peeking out from underneath it. Her eyes were shining with excitement, and Harry knew she was feeling the same thrill he was at doing what they knew they shouldn't be. As the rain pelted the tops of their hoods and stuck the fabric to their hair, he felt a strange explosion of feelings in his chest, again terribly brief and indistinguishable.

"Let's go," he said, glancing up at the lit windows on the castle and hoping no one saw them hurrying across the grounds toward the forest.

"Race you to the edge of the trees!" she squealed with delight, taking off with a bound even as she said it.

The briefest irritation at her cheating rose up in him, but as he raced after her, exhilaration took over again, and he raced after her, watching her cloak billow after her, even in the violent rain. He wouldn't, couldn't beat her to the trees, but it would be shameful to be too far behind.

The caught their breath on the edge of the trees, staring at each other's eyes, daring each other wordlessly to be the first to take that inward step.

/-/

Dean sat down with Neville and Ron on their dormitory floor, pulling his duvet with him to the collective homework zone, to help the group stay warm without stoking the fire again.

"Where's Harry?" Dean asked.

"Dunno," Ron said. "He ran up, grabbed his cloak, and ran off without any explanation."

"His cloak?" Neville said, his head jerking up. "When was this?"

Ron shrugged.

Dean and Neville shared a look. There was no real reason for Harry to have his cloak this time of night, anyway, but in this weather? It would be madness to go outside. Dean crossed to the window, peering out into the rain with a squint, but there was nothing to be seen through the pane. The rain smeared the image like a poor impressionist painting, and he could only guess what Harry was up to.

"Should we tell somebody?" Dean asked, rejoining the circle, pulling his duvet over his shoulders.

Neville pressed his lips together thoughtfully.

"If he's not back by curfew, we tell a teacher," he said with a nod. "Otherwise, we wait."

/-/

Harry wasn't sure how far they'd gone in, but they'd stuck to a kind of path, walking very close together with their wands lit in the thickness of the forest.

"Scared yet?" he whispered when they nearly walked into a massive cobweb. He used his arm to clear it from their path as Catherine snorted.

But she was nervous, and so was he, even though neither would say so. If she wasn't, she wouldn't have shrunk closer to him when they heard a strange clicking sound somewhere above them.

"What all do you reckon is in this place?" she asked as they kept walking.

Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he tried to think of something impressive and scary he could say that would help him win the bet without being too cruel.

"Draco thinks there's supposed to be werewolves in here."

Again, Catherine snorted and said, "Harry, I'm not afraid of werewolves. Uncle Remus is like, the kindest person ever."

"They're not all on Wolfsbane, you know," he said defensively, feeling his cheeks go hot with embarrassment at her derision. "Anyway, I'm only saying what Draco told me. Hagrid says there's centaurs. They're supposed to be pretty brutal if you get them angry."

"You'd have to be a fool to insult a centaur," Catherine said with a sniff. "I mean the stuff Hagrid keeps here, the stuff he's not supposed to."

"What?"

"Oh, Harry, honestly," she groaned. "Everybody knows he's got all kinds of questionable pets and that he keeps them in the forest. Why else would it be forbidden?"

Harry hadn't really thought about it, but he said nothing, stopping her before she stepped into another massive cobweb. She murmured her thanks as he cleared it out of the way, and that weird clicking sound happened again. Harry raised his light upward toward it, but there was nothing there but the trees and more darkness.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Late."

Catherine moved closer, so close that they were touching at the elbows, and Harry wasn't sure why he did it, but he linked his arm in hers, and she didn't argue. She just moved closer.

/-/

Neville put it off as long as he could, he really did. But there was just no way around the fact that Harry was still not back from whatever he was doing outside, and curfew was coming in about fifteen minutes.

"We need to tell a teacher," he said nervously.

"Why?" Ron whined.

Neville ignored him, pulling Harry's Invisibility Cloak over the pair of them and leading the way to the only teacher they could trust not to be too startled by the cloak, or to give them detention for being out of bed after hours – Professor Black.

A confused, but inviting voice answered Neville's knock, telling the knocker to enter, and Neville pulled Ron into the room and closed the door before whipping off the cloak.

Professor Black raised his eyebrows mildly at the two boys before saying, "What's wrong?"

"Harry's not in Gryffindor Tower," Neville said nervously. "He left an hour and a half ago with his cloak, didn't say where he was going."

"An hour and a half?" Professor Black said, grabbing his wand, standing abruptly. "Damn. Go back to bed, boys, under the cloak. I'll find him."

Neville saw him go to the fireplace and use some Floo Powder to make a firecall, saying "Remus," urgently into the flames, and something about Catherine and Harry before Ron closed the door.

It just would be something to do with those two, Neville thought nervously. It just would be.

/-/

"What was that?" Catherine said, feeling a horrible sensation in the pit of her stomach as she heard more clicking. Before Harry could answer her, she finally did walk into a spider web, and she squealed in horror, backing out of it, flailing her arms to try to get it off her as Harry tried to peel it away from her face.

It was a testament to how afraid they both were that he didn't try to use this moment to make her forfeit.

"Something just crawled over my foot," she whispered, horrified.

"What?"

"Something was just on my foot."

She felt the sensation again and gasped with horror, lowering her wand to the ground, where what had to be dozens of very large spiders were crawling all around her.

Catherine wasn't usually afraid of spiders, but she couldn't help it. It was like an army of them, and it wasn't natural. She screamed.

"They're just spiders," she told herself breathlessly, rooted to the spot. "Just spiders. They're only spiders, in nature, and they're not a big deal."

"That's not just a spider," Harry said slowly, pointing his wand toward a figure on the other side of the web she'd walked into.

It was a spider, strictly speaking, but it was as tall as Harry, and about three times as wide, counting the legs. Catherine felt mildly nauseous from fear, and she gripped Harry's hand, feeling his fingers squeeze hers as they tried to walk backward, but the sea of smaller spiders at their ankles seemed to rise in waves as the large one came forward.

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry cried.

It hit the massive spider, which backed up, but when it did his light revealed that there were more of that size behind it, and Catherine screamed again, letting Harry pull her back the way they came, running as fast as they could with the smaller (but still massive) spiders at their feet.

As they ran they threw spells over their shoulders, but whatever these things were, they didn't have the skill yet, it would seem, to really stop the tide.

Catherine tripped over a tree root and pulled Harry down with her momentum, and he tried to pull her back up to her feet. She must have turned her ankle terribly, however, because as soon as she put weight on it, her knee collapsed and she feel again. Harry knelt beside her, his eyes wide and panicked in the wandlight as they tried, through their adrenaline, to think of what to do.

"You have to run," he said, panicked.

"I can't," she said, feeling tears. "Harry, I can't even stand. Go get help."

"If I leave you they'll eat you!" he cried, horrified.

Catherine sobbed as he tried to Stun a couple more, and then she heard someone cry her name, then Harry's. Then her name again.

"Daddy!" she shrieked, recognizing his voice. "Daddy, we're here!"

The sound of running through the forest, and she saw Uncle Remus, Uncle Severus, and her father coming up the path, wands out. Uncle Remus and Uncle Severus took care of the spider things with several spells, and Catherine's father knelt beside her, feeling her ankle where it was already swelling.

"Hold still," he warned. "This is going to hurt for a moment."

She nodded, and she yelped as what was clearly a broken bone went back into place, but then the warmth of healing came over the ankle and she sighed with relief, throwing her arms around her father's neck and sobbing into his shoulder.

He pulled her to her feet and checked that she could stand before taking a step back and frowning.

"You two," he said sternly, "are in such big trouble."

Never before had the pair been fixed with so many solemn gazes, but they didn't care about the months' detentions they had been given for their disobedience. Catherine, at the very least, was just happy to be alive.

 **A/N: Sorry this is so late today…. I kind of forgot it was Saturday… Oops?**

 **Review Prompt: On a scale from one to ready to tear his hair out, how afraid do you think Sirius was when he knew his little girl had gone into the Forest in the middle of the night?**

 **Q &A: NEW FEATURE! Ask a question in a review? In the interest of my not responding six million times to the same question, it'll be added to a stack of written-out questions, which I will answer at least one in the note at the end of each chapter. Since we don't have any as of yet, I'll make one up.**

 **Q: How many chapters will there be? (ME!)**

 **A: Great question! ;) I've got almost 130 prewritten, and I would guess it will be somewhere between 140 and 160, all told. Tough to say at this point. We've got a ways to go. ;)**

 **Cheers**

 **-C**


	39. Lessons

Lily lightly tapped her husband, not quite a slap but something close to it.

"Shame on you," she said. "They're only children, James. They could have died. Can you imagine, Sirius finding Kitty like that?"

She could recall with perfect memory the look in Sirius's eyes when he came to tell them personally about finding Catherine and Harry in the forest, thinking that he was too late and his precious daughter was dead.

James blanched slightly, obviously remembering the wild, pained look in Sirius's eyes as well.

"I guess it's not really like when we were in school, is it?" he said, rubbing his hand through his hair. "When Padfoot and I went into the forest for the first time, nothing bad happened. We just got a laugh."

"And all the times after?" Lily said sternly.

James shrugged. She knew that they weren't unscathed every time they went in, but somehow it was worse, thinking about it being their children doing those stupid things.

Lily had given Sirius a drink as he told her about Catherine when he found her, about her ankle, about the way she had trembled when she wrapped her arms around him.

"That's where they found Cate," Lily said softly. "Remember? Hagrid found her in the forest."

James's expression said that he had either forgotten, or he hadn't thought about it in so long that it had sunk to the back of his mind.

Lily sat down to her tea again, thinking about how James had just said it was about time Harry went into the forest. But who would have guessed that Hagrid had a pet Acromantula, and one that he got a mate for, of all things? War aside, it was really a miracle they managed to get out of school alive, with all the stupid things the Marauders used to do.

"I suppose it's too much to ask that they behave themselves," Lily said. She took a long drink from her tea as James smirked a little. "Well, they've got detention, anyway, and I think Sirius is afraid enough from what happened to really make them regret it."

"I reckon the spiders made them regret it," James said playfully. "Anyway, they're okay, and maybe a good scare will be good for them. We had the war that kept us on our toes, but they're peacetime children. How else are they going to learn to look before they leap?"

Lily hummed, but it wasn't exactly agreement. She didn't know if she agreed. She only knew that there was some truth to what James was saying. But if she really thought about it, what were they fighting for if not to have a safe place to raise their children, a better world? Why should their children ever have to be afraid?

She sighed, kissing James's hand when he offered it to her. She hoped there was some little bit of her in Harry, or Catherine and Harry would be very lucky to get out of Hogwarts intact. There certainly wasn't any of Cara in Catherine.

/-/

"Revision session after dinner in the library?" Luna asked at dinner.

Generally, they said yes. Rhea didn't have to ask why Catherine shook her head. She had the first of her detention sessions with her father and Harry.

"Probably shouldn't do Potions, then," Luna said, as though Catherine's detention wasn't that big of a deal. Rhea thought it was a big deal. Not just that it was detention, but the whole story of it. It terrified her.

"We can do that tomorrow, if you'd like," Catherine said, stretching. "After lunch."

The other girls all agreed, and Catherine sat a bit straighter, glancing across the Great Hall at Harry, who was frowning at her thoughtfully.

"Are we in a truce now?" Rhea finally got up the nerve to ask. "Only I don't think I want to do this Prank War anymore."

Catherine didn't look at her, just kept looking at Harry, who kept looking back.

"Yeah," Ginny said after a long moment. "Yeah, we're in truce."

/-/

With a sigh, Sirius sat down in the trophy room, looking at Catherine and Harry, who were standing together, frowning, not meeting his eyes. He'd never been one for disciplining students, but when they were these two, somehow it made it all so much worse.

He knew he couldn't use their surnames to discipline them – he'd likely just end up laughing – and Remus always seemed to keep good discipline while using first names, so he opted for that.

"Harry," he said sternly. "Catherine."

The name felt like sawdust on his tongue, and he could remember with perfect clarity the young, dirt-caked body of Cara, lying on the sofa in the safe house, unconscious, looking almost dead. She'd been found in the forest. In the next flash of memory, he could see his little girl on the ground in the forest, her ankle swollen and her beautiful eyes so full of fear.

Why did she have to look just like her mother right now? How was he supposed to be firm with her when all he wanted was to wrap her in his arms so tightly and pray that nothing ever happened to her again?

He cleared his throat.

"We won't do every detention this month here, but Professor Dumbledore suggested we start here, so we're starting here. You'll polish every trophy here between you, no magic. And no quarreling, for Merlin's sake."

Their necks were bent as they nodded, taking their cloths, walking to separate sides of the room.

Sirius turned to watch Harry first, knowing that watching Catherine would only feel worse. Why had he thought it such a great idea when she was born to name her Catherine?

But the longer he sat there, watching Harry polish, the more he was reminded of all the times he and James had been forced to do this same thing, not that the lesson – whatever it was – ever sunk in. At least he knew these two weren't going to conspire against him the way he and James had with Filch.

He heard Catherine gasp, and he turned to see her standing at the Quidditch trophies, and she was leaning forward to read the names on it. He knew she was about to say something about James's name being there, but she bit her lip and backed away. She was likely trying to be upset with Harry, and thus wasn't about to point something like that out for him.

Then, just as he was turning his attention to Catherine, Harry gasped, "Kitty!"

Sirius's neck stiffened. Special Awards for Services to the School. There were a lot of them, for a lot of different things. After the war, Albus had Tom Riddle's removed without making a fuss, so a lot of people wouldn't even notice it had ever been there. James had one, for when he saved Severus's life fifth year.

And Sirius, Sirius had one for finding Mary's body. He shivered as he remembered it, and how angry it had made him feel. He'd wanted to find the horrible people who'd done it himself, especially after being the one to stop Mulciber from hurting her two years before they killed her. If he would have stopped it sooner, maybe she would have never had to die.

"Yes, you'll see familiar names," Sirius said sternly. "You need to polish them anyway."

The children glanced at him guiltily before turning back to their work.

/-/

Draco and Blaise stretched out in their dormitory, rubbing their eyes. Blaise was spending so many hours studying because he was determined to pass History of Magic despite his terrible memory for names and dates. Draco, Draco was working so hard to revise because he was bound and determined to finally beat Hermione Granger at something. Granted, she was likely to top him anyway, but every little bit he managed to chip away between them was some extra footing he would have in his pocket for next year. Eventually, she was going to stumble slightly, need extra time on something, not be quite so perfect.

No sense letting a chasm develop between their scores in the meantime. The closer he was when she stumbled, the more likely he would be able to overtake.

"Are you actually going to revise over the summer?" Blaise said, amused.

"There's nothing else to do but revise and fly," Draco said, not quite defensively. "My mother has tea with people for charity things and my father has people over for dinner, and if I'm lucky I might get an evening at Selwyn Manor if the Blacks decide to entertain widely."

He saw nothing pitiable in this, but instead decided to look on it as an opportunity to get just a little bit closer to his ultimate end-goal of being top of the class. His father could hardly argue with a goal like that, no matter how much of Draco's summer it took.

/-/

One week after their first set of detentions with him, Sirius sat down with Harry and Catherine in his office and inwardly cringed. This particular detention had been Severus's idea – the man _would_ come up with this kind of thing – and although it made Sirius uncomfortable, it was both better than making them scrub bedpans and possibly something to improve their behavior.

He was making them copy old detention records, which were in poor shape in the decades since they were first written – while Sirius had been in school.

"Before we begin," he said sternly, "I want to make it perfectly clear that this is not my way of giving either of you ideas on ways to misbehave. Yes?"

They nodded contritely.

Severus sighed.

"I'm going to have you copy old detention records," he said, putting the most damaged set of records in front of them. "You'll see some familiar names, I'm sure. Don't…don't judge the people by what you read. Remember, they were teenagers."

Catherine and Harry exchanged curious glances and Sirius inwardly cringed, thinking maybe he should have made them scrub bedpans after all. Or maybe loaned them to Remus or Severus or even Hagrid for something.

He knew this was a mistake the second Catherine gasped when she looked at the card she'd pulled out of the front. Her eyes went wide, and she looked up at him like she'd never seen him properly before. Sirius tried to be stern, but he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

He shouldn't be monitoring detentions. Half the cards in that bloody file were his, and here he was, making his daughter copy them.

/-/

No matter what Ron said, Hermione was not crazy. Yes, she knew a great deal of the material, but that didn't mean she didn't need to revise! There was so much to remember, and if she forgot something because she didn't do things properly, she'd never forgive herself. Because she did know so much, she felt the responsibility to be able to show that, and this meant putting in the effort to not forget it at the crucial moment. The expectation was that she would ace everything. And so, she had to ace everything.

"I don't know if my brain can do that much," Neville said nervously as she handed him his revision schedule. "There's…not a lot of time for breaks."

"Small breaks in longer periods of work is better for your retention and focus," Hermione said firmly. She'd been studying such things so that she could build a more effective revision schedule. She needed to be especially efficient, knowing that they were going to select their elective courses at the end of the year, and she was determined to take absolutely everything. Professor McGonagall hadn't expressly said she couldn't, and so Hermione was quite determined to do it.

"If you say so," Neville said uncertainly, tucking the schedule inside his History of Magic textbook and asking when she wanted to get started on their Charms essays.

/-/

Sirius supposed the best way to describe how that hour went was that he was terribly nauseous by the end of it. His daughter looked more and more surprised as the hour went on, and Harry and Catherine would sometime exchange astonished glances as they went about their work. He'd never seen either of them write so quickly, obviously eager to figure out what came next.

He thanked every deity he could think of as they worked that he hadn't been promiscuous in school, that he'd been uninterested in girls until he met Cara, because at least there wouldn't be any detention cards for snogging in corners of the castle in the middle of the night like there were for some people. Lily and James had been responsible in that respect as well.

Although, come to think of it, James earned several detentions for harassing Lily, before they made the Map and perfecting escaping.

When the clock chimed and they were dismissed, they finished the cards they were on, which he thought was remarkably respectful of them, and they cleaned up the cards and their work, whispering quietly together.

Well, he told himself, at least they seemed capable of getting along, even though they weren't bonding over what he wanted them to bond over. Harry picked up his bag and left, but Catherine lingered, watching Sirius expectantly.

He shuffled some things around on his desk, hoping he looked busy, but really, he was thinking quickly. If he was this nervous with her finding out what he was like in school, what he'd done as a child, how would it be when one day she learned about what he'd done during the war? How could he ever allow her to see that hideous thing on his arm?

He took deep, measured breaths as he tried to fight the tears prickling the corners of his vision. He wanted to be her hero forever, but some days he felt like a monster when he woke up from his darkest nightmares and that thing was still on his arm.

"Daddy?"

Her voice could break his heart sometimes. He looked up at her sweet face. She had the ability to look so childish and innocent, even when she'd done something she wasn't supposed to do. Sirius sighed and gestured for her to come forward.

Catherine walked forward quickly, letting Sirius pull her into a hug and kiss her forehead several times.

"Do you understand why I'm so upset with what you did?" he asked, not looking her in the eye.

"I broke the rules."

"Yes, but…but these rules exist to protect you and other people, Kitty-Cat," he said, hugging her a bit tighter. "When I learned that you two had gone out onto the grounds in the storm, I knew where you must have gone. As you can see, I broke a rule or two in my time." Catherine snorted and he smiled sadly.

"When I heard you scream," he said his voice trembling as he held her even more tightly to himself, "I…I don't think I've ever been that scared." He closed his eyes and he was back in the sitting room at Lestrange Manor, and Cara was wielding that sword and he gripped his fingers more tightly around his daughter's shoulders in the present as he opened them again. "Please don't ever make me feel like I've lost you again. There's no dare, no bet, no prank worth your life, do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Her voice was small, but he could tell from the tone that she understood, and that he had scared her a bit. He wanted her to be afraid, because he wanted her to understand that her actions had consequences, like he never did at her age. He bit his lip and prayed that she never had his impossible choices to deal with.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the top of her hair and feeling a tear roll off his cheek and onto the top of her head. He silently chided himself for not being more careful, but if she noticed, she made no sign.

"I love you too, Daddy." She pulled back from the hug slowly, smiled at him, and said, "I'll see you next week then."

She winked and grabbed her things, leaving him alone in his office with a horrible onslaught of demons she couldn't possibly understand. If there was mercy in the fabric of the universe, she would never understand. She would never have a need.

/-/

Blaise woke with a jerk and looked up at the clock. He'd fallen asleep in their pile of revision stuffs, and it was nearly midnight. He groaned softly as he sat up, feeling a crick developing in his neck. He glanced around at the beds to see that the others had all gone to bed without bothering to wake them.

Or, all but Draco, who had fallen asleep on his stomach, face in his Potions notes. Blaise sighed, thinking how absurd it was, this quest Draco had to make top of their year. His grades were excellent, something that would make any sane person satisfied, but then Blaise understood pureblood pride and its great need for first prize at whatever it sought. Not that Draco particularly cared about his grades, except for his father caring so intently.

Blaise carefully, gently, slid all their books and notes out from under Draco, folded what needed to be folded and closed what needed to be closed. He piled Draco's things on his bedside table to be dealt with in the morning, and tossed his own things in his bag. Feeling a little nervous, he pulled back Draco's sheets and then levitated him into his bed before pulling them back over him. Of course, Blaise thought, no matter how Draco was situated in the bed, it was bound to be more comfortable than the floor.

As he tucked himself in for the night and blew out his candle, he told himself that his was exactly what he would tell Draco in the morning, when he irrationally complained, as he was sure to do.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Kitty have been getting detention with an education. Sirius has been assaulted with Kitty growing up in painful ways. And the race to top of the year is ON.**

 **Review Prompt: Do y'all think I'll ever take enough pity on Draco to let him top the year even just once?**

 **Q &A: No questions submitted last week, so I'll ask/answer another that y'all should have asked.**

 **Q: Which story line is the hardest to write in this series? (ME)**

 **Answer: In part one, it was definitely Albus's inner dialogue. Every time I write Albus and Sirius, I try to write them different, so sometimes they're angelic and sometimes they're villainous, but in this story, both are very complicated. Sirius, it's easy for me write him this way. Albus is…bigger. Harder.**

 **Part two, I would say it's actually hardest to write Cara, because during the war she had all kinds of interesting things going on, but now she's removed from the action. I have to keep her life interesting enough to peak at from time to time, but also only pick times when she's relevant. Some easier Cara bits are coming up soon, but that's a spoiler. ;)**

 **Cheers!**

 **-C**


	40. Prewett Power

Cora noted the buzz as she ate her cereal. Whatever was going on, both of her parents were involved. She chewed thoughtfully, but her parents seemed to be speaking in some kind of code.

They did that sometimes. Cora figured it had something to do with their jobs, or maybe something they developed during the war. They could talk for hours nonstop in front of their children and say absolutely nothing that their kids understood.

She was told that their Aunt Molly was going to come and stay with them for a while, and Cora nodded. Damon and Ourania had already run out to play. Then they spoke in more code, and she pretended not to watch as her father kissed her mother happily. Cora's eyes slipped up as they seemed to forget she was there, and she saw her mother wrap her arms around her father's neck.

It was sweet, Cora supposed, if a little bit gross.

Aunt Molly arrived about ten minutes after her parents had to leave, and she had Cora tell her where her siblings were and whether there was any laundry running. Then she asked if Cora wanted to help make lunch, which she didn't, but she said she did because she knew Aunt Molly appreciated the company while she worked.

Cora was washing the vegetables per instructions and she asked, "What exactly are Mum and Dad up to today?"

"I'm really not sure, dear," Aunt Molly said absently as she frowned into the refrigerator. She'd never been comfortable with the "Muggle contraptions" in the Prewett house. "It's something to do with work, and I'm under the impression that it's very important."

As Cora had figured that much out for herself, she decided that Aunt Molly had no clue what her mother was up to, and she returned her attention to the tomato and cucumber she was washing for the sandwiches.

"Oh, excellent," Aunt Molly said. "Your father said there was corned beef in this thing, but I wasn't sure I believed him."

Cora paused, frowning. Ourania hated corned beef sandwiches. She wondered whether she could make some kind of appeal on her sister's behalf, or if perhaps she should warn her sister to behave for their parents' sake.

She opted for the latter.

"Aunt Molly," Cora said when she finished washing the vegetables, "are we going to make dinner as well?"

No matter how long Aunt Molly visited for, she always made more meals than she ate. If her parents weren't coming home until after dinner, Aunt Molly would make something that could be warmed up for breakfast before she left.

"Yes, dear. What do you think? It looks like you have some things for a lovely stew."

Cora frowned slightly again. Damon hated stew, but he would eat it graciously and not complain. Ourania didn't particularly have feelings about it either way, so it was safer than letting Aunt Molly come up with something potentially worse, especially with corned beef for lunch.

"Stew sounds good," Cora lied.

"Then let's get you working on washing some potatoes, then, dear."

/-/

Dorcas was jittery with excitement as she read over the paperwork carefully. Fabian had already briefed her on everything she needed to mark to fast-track things, and she held her breath as she made sure she didn't miss anything important. He was watching her from across the table, and she was ignoring him. Somehow, watching her file paperwork for someone's arrest turned him on, and she knew he was giving the eye across the table.

"Before I sign it, check it," she said, pushing it across to him. "I don't want to mess this up."

Fabian read through the form carefully and said, "Yeah, dove, it's all good. Sign it, and I'll get an Auror to witness it for you, and then we'll take care of everything."

She signed the bottom of the form and he winked at her.

"Oi, Mad-Eye!" he called, and the haggard old Auror poked his head out and looked at them. "I need you to witness this arrest warrant for my wife. Can't do it, you understand. Favoritism and all that."

Mad-Eye grumbled and hobbled over to sign the form, waved lazily at them pair of them, and hobbled back to his desk.

It was nearly done.

/-/

Rabastan waited anxiously in his study, looking at the sculpture he was making for Cara, the one he intended to give her on her next birthday. It still needed a few major pieces added, and quite a few small adjustments to consider. Still, there was plenty of time.

He felt the wards at the gate burn and he smiled, locking his study and hurrying out to greet her.

Dorcas was rubbing her hands together absently, but he could tell from her shoulders that the news was good. He let her in, and because the weather wasn't bad he walked her through the front garden instead of into the house. His wife was in the house, and Delia would hate him taking more time out for this project.

"Fabian and Gideon have gone to make the arrest," Dorcas said without preamble. "It's nearly over."

"What'll you do with all your precious free time once he's behind bars?" Rabastan said with amusement.

"Play with my children while I've still got some not at school," she said with a sigh. "You know, I almost understand Sirius's smoking right now. I feel like I should be doing something with my hands."

Rabastan nodded. It was why he took up the sculptures in the first place, why Cara always kept a ribbon in her pocket. Rabastan half wanted to have something to suggest, because he never wanted to leave the matter on his brother-in-law's disgusting cigarettes, but he didn't think Dorcas would actually smoke them, and he knew she wasn't actually looking for advice.

They walked for a while toward the rosebushes and Dorcas said, "It'll be over by the end of the day. Then I can focus on what comes next."

"When will you know how it's turned out?"

She pressed her hands together again and said, "Fabian's going to send me a message when he's detained, and then I'll go to the Ministry, where I can keep close tabs on processing and stuff. I'm sort of hoping he pleads guilty so we don't have to worry about trials and all that garbage. I've got enough evidence to lock him away for a good long time."

Rabastan nodded. He knew a few of the interrogators, and he'd already had some chats. He had a very strong feeling that there would be, in fact, a guilty plea. No need to make things harder on Dorcas's children than they already were.

/-/

His wife was up to something. This was a feeling Lucius was certainly growing used to, but she'd been spending far too much time speaking to their house-elf of late, and she'd had so much tea with Cara Black, and written so many letters to her cousin that she hadn't let him see, that Lucius was certain something very strange was going on.

He thought about confronting her about it, but he'd tried that several times before and it never really worked out in his favor. Perhaps she would tell him when the time came, but he had a feeling that when that time came, she was going to tell him something he absolutely did not want to hear.

Narcissa was writing something rapidly after a letter from her cousin, and had told him that she was going out to see Cara Black later in the day. Lucius supposed she might have told Delia Lestrange, and perhaps Delia would tell him what was going on.

But then, Delia was a strange sort of woman. She would probably tell him that his suspicions were founded and then refuse to say any more about it.

"Narcissa?" he said, knocking on the door to her sitting room. "Would you like me to deliver that for you so you aren't running late?"

"I'll be fine, thank you, darling," she said, not looking up from her writing, still working at incredible pace. "Have a lovely afternoon."

He hummed, feeling very uneasy.

/-/

Fabian finished sending his message to Dorcas and walked back into the observation room, where two of the interrogators Rabastan had specifically recommended were talking very sternly with the newly arrested Gilderoy Lockhart.

"How's it looking?" he asked his brother.

"I dunno what Lestrange has on these guys," Gideon said softly, "but let me tell you, this guy paled and melted and he'll be singing like a canary any minute now. I think it's pretty safe to tell Dorcas there isn't going to be a trial."

Fabian hummed, impressed and quietly relieved. This had been such a strain on everything in his family life of late.

"Forgive me if I wait until we've got the signed confession and waiver to celebrate," he said, but his heart was beating faster.

/-/

Revision was in full swing, with only a couple of weeks left before exams began, and Anthony Goldstein was watching the rest of the Ravenclaw common room, which was filled with studying students. Terry and Padma sat at his table, and the next table over had Looney Lovegood and Rhea Prewett whispering over their books.

"They make me nervous," Terry said, frowning.

"Parvati says they've definitely made truce," Padma said dismissively. "They're allowed to whisper, Terry. Could be gossip. Might even be talking about their notes. Just leave them be."

But Anthony completely shared Terry's view of things, and watched the girls anxiously.

/-/

Fabian walked out to the waiting area where Dorcas was flicking the fichus leaf that was trying to get into her lap. He thought about making a joke about being jealous of it, but she was clearly so on edge with waiting that he told himself it wasn't worth the added stress to her at this very tense moment.

"He's signed everything," he said, taking her hands in his. "He's going straight to prison. It's all over."

Dorcas let out a deep sigh and pressed his hands to her lips. Fabian really wished she wouldn't do that because he was incredibly turned on and had been all day. The sight of his wife exercising her power was unbelievably sexy.

"Is there anything you've got to do to process him?" she asked, looking up at him.

"No. Gideon's taken care of everything so I could tell you. Have you filed all your paperwork?"

He figured she could get home early, maybe keep his sister from making stew or something awful for dinner.

"Yeah," she said, standing suddenly, far too close to him. Fabian's heart was pounding so violently that he was sure she could hear it. How could she not know how torturous this was to him. "C'mon."

"What?"

"You've got a break, yeah?"

"Yes," he said warily. "If I need it."

She winked and said, "You need it. Let's celebrate."

He was dizzy with excitement as she led him to the nearest toilet and sealed the door thoroughly. Fabian told himself he was the luckiest bloke alive as he hastily unbuttoned his wife's blouse. She was kissing him, and he was aching for her. It was all just incredibly perfect.

"This really turns you on, doesn't it?" she said, slipping her blouse off. "Maybe we should get it off at work more often."

"As great as that would be," he sighed between kisses to her neck, "that's not what's turning me on. It's you being all…aggressive."

Dorcas leaned her head back against the cool tile wall and sighed as he hastily undid his trousers. She had a dark smile and he knew she was thinking about the first time he managed to get her to sleep with him, and how he confessed to her that as much as he'd already adored her, it was fighting in a war with her and seeing how steely and forceful she could be that really turned him on.

He would have loved to drag things out, but he needed to be back to work in about ten minutes and so he made sure she was wet enough before plunging into her quickly, enjoying the gasp she let out at the suddenness of the sensation.

"Maybe I should just stay under your desk instead of going home," she teased.

"Don't make promises you won't keep," he said, grinding his teeth as he began to pump in and out, her his aiding the motion as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heels were digging into his flesh, and somehow that was even better. "Besides, I doubt I'd manage to get any work done."

She laughed as he came.

/-/

Howard frowned as Ryana Cotton leaned in closer and raised her pale eyebrows with significance. Her eyebrows kind of freaked him out.

"Kitty Black said she'd let me use her Potions notes for revision."

"Use them?" he said, interested. "Like, without her around?"

"Yeah."

"Like borrow them?"

"Yeah."

Howard sat back, his own eyebrows raised.

"How'd you manage that?"

He was convinced that Catherine Black had the best Potions skills in the year, if she didn't wind up topping their whole year. He couldn't fathom why she'd just hand her notes to Ryana, especially as he thought about how she sort of followed Catherine around like a puppy, or a groupie, and not like they were actual friends.

"She said she doesn't really need them," Ryana said, in awe. "I'm not sure that Kitty actually revises, you know. I've seen her revise with her clique, and they'll say stuff from their notes, and she'll just run down what was discussed in class without looking at anything. I've never seen her read her notes."

Howard nodded thoughtfully, agreeing to be Ryana's study partner. With any luck, Catherine Black would be in a generous mood and loan the rest of her notes as well.

/-/

Cora was waiting when her mother came in through the front door, pulling off her robes to reveal the blouse and skirt beneath. She was smiling, so whatever she'd accomplished was done, and Cora felt enormous relief.

"Mum," she said, smiling, "Aunt Molly's just finishing the stew for dinner. Is Daddy coming home soon?"

Her mother licked her lips and frowned slightly, obviously not keen on the idea of stew.

"He's got to work a full day today, love," her mother said, running a manicured hand through Cora's soft red hair. "Tell you what, when Aunt Molly leaves, I'll get some ice cream out."

"Before dinner?" Cora whispered, excited and confused. Her mother had never done that before.

With a wink as the only answer, her mother walked into the kitchen to greet Aunt Molly and compliment the smell of the stew, as Cora knew was customary whenever Aunt Molly cooked something for them. Cora teetered between telling her siblings about the ice cream or waiting so they didn't spill the beans and earn Aunt Molly's disapproval.

She decided it could wait a few minutes, anyway, until Aunt Molly left.

/-/

Harry found it utterly infuriating, the way Catherine leaned back her chair in the library, onto its hind legs, balancing, bored, precarious, barely listening to the revision of her friends. He was trying to focus on the revision Hermione was doing with them, but he was too busy thinking that if Catherine lost her balance, she'd probably crack her skull on the bookshelf behind her and no doubt Madam Pince would blame him for any blood that got on the books because Catherine's father was a professor and his wasn't.

It wasn't fair. Harry had read the detention cards. Both of their fathers got in plenty of trouble, including being banned from the library in their fourth year. Still, Madam Pince treated Catherine like a princess.

"Harry, are you even listening?" Hermione said in a tired, anxious voice.

"Hmm? Yeah," he lied, turning his attention back to Hermione as Catherine began a description of one of the many Goblin Rebellions, from memory, staring up at the ceiling in her most bored voice.

"Then what are the healing properties of mandrakes?" Hermione asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Er…."

Hermione let out a huff and he tried not to roll his eyes. It wasn't like he'd ever need mandrakes in real life, anyway.

/-/

When his mother tucked him in that night, Damon sat up slightly to get her attention and he said, "Mum? We're not doing this again, are we?"

She raised her eyebrows, clearly puzzled.

"What, having ice cream before dinner? Did you not like it?"

Damon smiled, shaking his head. He would have done that every night if she'd let him, but he knew it was a one-time thing, or maybe once-in-a-while.

"No, whatever you've been doing at work. It wasn't fun for us."

Her face softened, and she sighed, pushing him back down to his pillow gently, waiting for his shoulders to relax before she said, "I know, love. I know. I hope I never have to go through this again, but sometimes it's necessary. I know it's hard to understand it right now, but someday I'm sure you will. I hope you will. You see, when you change big things, it takes some people longer to catch up, and you have to stay vigilant to make sure the right changes happen. Not everybody believes in the same thing, you see? And to make sure everyone learns to do the right thing, you have to change people's minds about things that can be very hard to change public opinion on. And that's my job. Most of the time, it's not anything that will affect you, but this time it did, and I'm sorry, love."

"It's okay," he said, nodding as if he fully understood what she said. He did a little, in that he knew that her work was important and that she was teaching people how to do the right thing even when they didn't want to. That definitely seemed important. "Only, I don't like seeing everybody so upset and nervous all the time. And I think Cora was really scared. She would cry sometimes, when she didn't think anyone could see her."

His mother's eyes widened and she said, "Thank you for telling me, Damon. Now, it's over now. Go ahead and get some sleep."

She kissed his head and left the room as he rolled onto his side, closing his eyes happily.

 **A/N: So, Gilderoy's in jail without a trial. Kitty and Harry are officially in truce as exams close in. Nobody really likes stew. And Fabian Prewett is living the dream.**

 **Review Prompt: How upset do you think Harry really is about Catherine's behavior? Or is it that thing boys do when they don't understand their own feelings? What d'you think?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: So…. How many chapters is this deal going to be? (ME, since y'all are seriously lacking in your reviewing responsibilities)**

 **A: GREAT QUESTION. I've not finished pre-writing yet, but I would say less than 150, probably closer to 140. Somewhere between the two, perhaps. I'll try to keep y'all posted as I pre-write.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	41. Battle for First

Sirius hardly ever left Hogwarts during the school year, and when he did it was almost always one of two things. Either he was going home in the middle of the night to see his wife or check on a sick child, or he was going out during an evening or on a weekend to see to some social obligation that couldn't be avoided as the patriarch of the House of Black.

He supposed this was sort of the second one, going to Selwyn Manor on a Saturday morning after breakfast.

Narcissa had contacted him, on Cara's recommendation, and had been maintaining steady correspondence about her rather eccentric and dissatisfied house-elf, Dobby. He strongly believed in personal freedom for elves, which Sirius thought well of (although his elves would likely have offed themselves if he'd suggested paying them). He and Narcissa had made arrangements that suited all involved parties, and now he just had to see to it being done legally so Lucius couldn't make a fit and step in. The less opportunity he had to make an arse of himself, the better, in Sirius's opinion.

Narcissa was waiting at the gates when he arrived, Dobby at her side.

"Sirius," she said, letting him kiss her cheek instead of her hand, which he did when they weren't at social functions. "You remember Dobby, I suppose?"

"Yes, I believe I do," he said, bowing his head slightly to the elf, who seemed pleased and surprised, as always. "A pleasure to see you again, Dobby."

"Dobby is honored, Master Black," the elf said, delighted.

He let them in and led them up to the house, where Winky – the elf he inherited when Mr. Crouch passed away (or possibly was murdered during the aftermath of the war, but Sirius didn't have any scruples which, really) and left the Crouch Family fortune to the nearest relative: Sirius – was keeping the house generally dusted and polished and the like.

"Winky!" he called.

She appeared at the foot of the stairs almost instantly, and she brightened at the sight of Dobby.

It wasn't just the arrangements that made her happy to see the other elf. They had long been acquainted, and as far as Sirius could gather, they were friends. He wasn't sure when they had time to socialize, but much of what house-elves did was a mystery to him.

"We'll leave you time to get…re-acquainted while we sort out the paperwork," Sirius said gently, smiling to the two elves as he led Narcissa to his study.

The arrangement worked thusly: that the Malfoys would be gifted Winky in compensation for the loss of their elf, Dobby, when he was given clothes by Narcissa. The Black Family would then hire Dobby on a salary of his choosing with benefits of his request on retention for care of Selwyn Manor. As an added condition of the sort of swap, Dobby and Winky had both agreed to mate so that their offspring could be retained (on salary) when of age to be trained by and replace Kreacher, who was getting a bit to the old end of usefulness. They also agreed that should the Black or Malfoy families (or the elves' own interests) see fit, they would mate at other times in future.

Sirius supposed he would have to talk to Dorcas about seeing if she could get a marriage structure in place for house-elves, whatever it would look like for creatures who avoided all her attempts to give them legal person-rights.

He really didn't understand house-elves, but he did try his best.

"This is the strangest contract I've ever had to sign," he said, laughing. "D'you know what Dobby's asked for his benefits?" Narcissa shook her head. "He wants six galleons a month and one day's leave quarterly. I guess it's a small step to us, but a big leap for him." She smiled and Sirius let out a short laugh as he signed the transfer papers. "In truth, Cissy, I think I'll be able to talk him into renegotiating in his favor as time goes on, but I don't want to push him for now."

"I think that's probably wise," Narcissa said solemnly. "I would leave you to yourself, but I'd really rather not go back to the Manor without an elf, just in case. Shall we have tea or perhaps a drink while we wait?"

Sirius winked and poured them both some firewhiskey from the store in his study.

/-/

In a last-minute attempt to study for their exams, Ginny was talking Catherine's ear off on the way to the greenhouse for their Herbology exam, the first Catherine had that year.

"I still don't remember anything about Devil's Snare," Ginny said despairingly.

"It hates light and heat," Catherine recited automatically. "I seriously doubt it'll be on the exam. Do you know who's currently top of the running for the House Cup? I meant to check at breakfast."

"Slytherin, I expect," Ginny said with a shrug. "I haven't checked in a while. We'll know in a couple of weeks, anyway. Worried you and Harry lost so many points for all the other houses that Slytherin will win by default?"

Catherine felt her neck stiffen and her nostrils flare as she said coolly, "Let's not forget, Ginny, that you were perfectly complicit in losing an awful lot of those points. C'mon. Professor Sprout's expecting us."

/-/

By Tuesday afternoon of the first week of exams, Ginny was already on her fourth exam. She'd just done Herbology that morning with Catherine, and now she was walking into Professor Black's class, sitting down and looking at the parchment in front of her, which was blank. Her stomach churned slightly, but she ignored it. She'd studied as much as humanly possible. There was no way to cram more into her head than was already there.

Professor Black's mind seemed to be somewhere else, but he smiled at them warmly when the bell rang and the last few straggled in. Colin bounced a little in his seat.

"Your exams are in front of you," he said. "They'll have questions in a moment. I want you to know that you're all capable of doing well on this exam, and I believe you will all pass and pass well. Take your time and really think about the questions. Don't forget to read all the parts of the question. Oh, and Colin, put your name at the top."

He winked as the class chuckled. Colin was the only person in the room – including Ginny – who had yet to forget to put his name on something for Professor Black, so it was his favorite joke to use Colin as the example.

"Right, now, begin."

As soon as he said this sequence of words, the ink appeared on the paper, and several of the Muggle-born students (including Colin) started at this. Most of their teachers didn't do stuff like that. The closest thing was Dumbledore making their food appear at feasts.

Ginny smiled to herself and picked up her quill, looking at the questions and considering each with care. So many goblin names, so many years. If she let herself get worried, they would all start to blur together, but she just tried to hear a blend of Professor Black's voice teaching and Catherine reciting to try to keep the information straight.

/-/

Luna had a slight…disagreement with Catherine over whether it was better to have exams during the first or second week of exams. This was mainly because Luna and Rhea didn't really start exams in earnest until Monday afternoon of the second week, beginning with Charms.

It wasn't such a bad exam, Luna thought. There was plenty of opportunity to use spells that she'd used or even modified during the Great Prank War, so she felt that she and Rhea had a bit of an advantage over their peers.

Professor Flitwick gave them encouraging words and looks, even on the more difficult practical aspects, but when Luna and Rhea walked away toward dinner that evening, they noted quietly to each other how some of their peers looked a bit queasy.

"If they're looking like that after Charms," Rhea said softly, almost sadly, "I hate to think how they're going to be after Potions."

Luna hummed her agreement, but she didn't say what she was really thinking, which was that their peers weren't nervous because they thought they were going to do poorly, but rather because they were anxious not to be average. They all wanted to top the year, which Luna thought was rather silly of them.

Anyone with brains expected Catherine to top the year, naturally.

/-/

Tuesday morning, Rhea sat down in Professor Lupin's classroom with her fellow Ravenclaw first years and looked up at her professor nervously. Defense theory had never been her strong suit, but Catherine had been a surprisingly big help.

"There's no practical this year," Professor Lupin said softly. "I have most of you in the Dueling Club, and there's no need for one this year with what we've covered. We'll have one next year. Deep breaths, calm minds. Ready? Begin."

Rhea tried to take deep breaths and hear Catherine's voice reciting for them, impressively, every spell and animal they'd covered during the year.

/-/

"Mummy," Caroline said, frowning at the letter her mother was reading, "where's…that?"

"Marseille is in France, dear," her mother said.

Caroline might not have been the best at pronunciation, but this Marseille was absolutely not spelled like it sounded.

"Why are you writing with Daddy about it?"

"We're going there, love."

At this, Jason jerked his head up from the book he was reading, his eyes going wide. Caroline perked up as well. As interesting as it might be to go somewhere other than Selwyn Manor, they _always_ went to Selwyn Manor.

"The Potters are coming too," their mother continued as she read. "You'll get to take an airplane."

Caroline wasn't sure what that was, but she squealed with delight anyway.

/-/

Very few people still had exams by the time Draco walked with Blaise to their Charms exam. Adrasteia was waiting to take her Transfiguration exam, but other than that no one of any interest to Draco was still waiting to take an exam.

"Almost over," Blaise said softly. "D'you think you'll manage to get top of the year?"

His tone was teasing, but Draco didn't appreciate it. He was slightly annoyed that Blaise thought there was anything amusing in the battle for top of the year. Draco knew he wasn't going to beat Hermione Granger on this exam, but that was of little consequence. It was cumulative.

"Are you going to do Divination?" Blaise asked lazily.

Draco snorted.

"No. Are you?"

Blaise shook his head.

A brief conversation revealed that both boys were doing Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, but Blaise seemed surprised to find that Draco had also decided to take Care of Magical Creatures.

"Why would you bother with it?" Blaise said lazily as they waited for their names to be called. "Seems like a load of dross to me."

"I don't want to be stuck inside all the time," Draco said lazily. "And before you say anything, yes, I know Pansy signed up for it." He lowered his voice. "I found that out after she learned I had. Daphne spilled the beans. There'll be plenty of other people. Maybe I'll make nice with the Gryffindors and stand with them. She won't bother me then."

Blaise hummed, although he didn't seem so sure of this plan. Draco didn't mind. Draco felt that it had significant promise.

Professor Flitwick called his name, and Draco drew himself up, breathing forcefully out through his nose before walking into the classroom, sitting across from the tiny professor. There were several objects laid out on a table, and Professor Flitwick had a clipboard in front of him. He gestured for Draco to sit.

"Let us start with something simple and work our way up," Professor Flitwick said kindly. "Color-Changing Charms seems a good place. Change this cushion to blue."

Draco nodded, looking at the burgundy cushion. It was good that Flitwick had chosen a blue-based red, else it would have been quite difficult. Draco had despaired over changing orangey reds to blue at the end of the last year, and still hadn't fully mastered it by the time the new year started up.

But Draco pulled out his wand and carefully, calmly changed the cushion to blue. It wasn't the shade of blue he had focused his mind on – more an indigo than a sapphire – but he supposed it would be good enough for a quality grade, and really, Professor Flitwick hadn't specified a shade.

"Very good," Professor Flitwick said in his kind, warm, squeaky voice. "Now, texture charms."

/-/

Damon flipped through a magazine Ourania had been reading earlier. He was bored. June was always boring before the students came back from school, but this time he wasn't just waiting for cousins. He was waiting for Rhea and her stories. He hoped she had a lot of interesting stories.

"New broom?" he muttered, looking at the advert for the upcoming broom. It hadn't been released yet, but it was in pre-order, and the prices were disgusting. Then again, Damon mused, so were the stats. He wasn't really one for Quidditch, but he could appreciate the beauty of a quality racing broom just as much as his sister and cousins. Clearly, this was what had been of such interest to Ourania, who hardly ever read anything.

He thought about the design of the broom, and he determined that while it wasn't as attractive as the Nimbus series, this Firebolt did have its own kind of rugged charm. The testimonials of test racers and the like were glowing, but that was given for a paid advert. Damon thought he'd keep an eye on the broom, even though he'd never afford one even if he wanted to.

And to be honest, he didn't really want to. He rather liked having his feet firmly on the ground.

"Damon!" Ourania shrieked. "Cora says there's ice lollies!"

He sat up straight, tossing aside the magazine unceremoniously.

"Coming!" he cried, louder than he had spoken in months. He didn't want Ourania to take all the orange ones before he got there. He knew his twin. She absolutely would do that.

/-/

Draco held his breath as he opened his exam results. It had been a long, difficult set of exams, and he so badly wanted to feel that it was worthwhile, especially knowing that Granger was apparently taking more classes than normal next year. His chances to win were possibly slipping out of his grasp.

He let his eyes glide down the list of scores, all good marks and all telling him that he would be passing on to third year without too much worry. But then his eyes darted to the bottom.

Second. He'd gotten second in the year again.

He balled up the parchment before he realized what he was doing and returned to his eggs with a scowl.

/-/

Hermione began packing the day she finished her exams. She ignored the teasing of her roommates, ignored the questions about her exam results, ignored everything but her list of things that had to be done before she could go home.

She had, in fact, topped the year. What made her pleased (although she wouldn't say it out loud) was that Neville told her that Rhea Prewett topped the first year, and Catherine Black came in second.

Perhaps it was petty, but Hermione felt this was a small – if insignificant – judgment against the way Catherine had behaved all year. Even if no one else saw it that way, it made Hermione feel like the universe had order again.

/-/

Sirius was buzzing with excitement as he and Severus and Remus sat down in the Three Broomsticks for their last day off before the feast. Did they need to go out for drinks? No. But Sirius talked them into it anyway. He wouldn't be seeing any of them over the summer, as Cara had talked him into taking the family and the Potters to France for the summer. He had a property in Marseille he hardly ever visited that Cara thought the children would appreciate.

"You do know your daughter didn't top her year," Severus said, his cheek twitching as he tried to hide his amusement at Sirius's happiness.

"I know, I know," he said dismissively, "but she topped all of our classes, and that's what matters. I honestly can't be bothered with how she does in Astronomy and Charms."

Those were the classes that dragged her below Rhea Prewett, they knew, although only by a very few points. Although it wouldn't be announced, Rhea and Catherine were only three points separate, when all was tallied up.

"It's probably a good thing none of our friends have children coming in next year," Remus said, rubbing his eyes. "I can't take another year like this one, and I think we only _just_ managed to get Kitty and Harry to calm down."

Severus smirked and said, "If you thought that was bad, just wait until Aeson Lestrange and Caroline are in school. Those two will duel at every available opportunity."

Sirius groaned and said, "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to the overlap years. I'm hoping by the time Caro's in school, Kitty will have matured a bit."

The three men nodded, taking large gulps of their drinks and enjoyed the end of the year in near-silence for several hours, just being together somewhere other than the castle. Sirius closed his eyes and realized he felt so much older than he had when the year began. Perhaps it was nearly losing Catherine, or perhaps it was a year of worrying about her behavior. Whatever it was, he was nervous about six more years of it.

"One down," he said when he put a few sickles on the table as tip, "six to go."

 **A/N: Happy New Year's Eve, you guys! In spirit of the Holiday Season (and because I spaced on the intended Christmas bonus last week…) I'm giving you THREE updates today! Yes, THREE.**

 **That, and because this is going to be a long story, and we're kind of between major drama points. Don't you want to know what's coming next year? I thought so.**

 **Review Prompt: Which shall be a bigger rivalry, Harry/Kitty, or Caro/Aeson?**

 **Q &A: ASK ME QUESTIONS, PLEASE!**

 **-C**


	42. Holiday

Remus was mildly surprised – but admittedly proud – to find that Gryffindor gold and scarlet decked the Great Hall at the end of the year feast. He sat down and smirked at Severus, who passed three sickles each to Remus and Sirius under the table with a scowl. He'd been so certain that all the points Harry lost for the stunt with Catherine in the forest would practically hand the win to Slytherin.

"What did it?" Remus asked Minerva, who was beaming.

"The year-topping points," she said happily. "Miss Granger's points sealed it. Thankfully, there was no shining star in Slytherin's first years, and it didn't matter that Gryffindor didn't, either."

Remus didn't think that was especially fair. He thought Ginny was a quite remarkable – if single-minded – student, and just because two of her best friends were even better didn't mean she wasn't spectacular.

But he said nothing and kept smiling.

The students walked in and the reactions to the color scheme varied based on who was entering. Many of the Slytherins were bitter about it, and a couple of Ravenclaws seemed disappointed, although they were a bit of a long shot. The Gryffindors were undoubtedly delighted, but when Catherine walked in with Ryana Cotton, Remus was surprised to see her smile at the sight of the colors.

"Kitty seems happy," Remus said in a low voice to Sirius, raising his eyebrows.

"She's probably pleased for Ginny," Sirius said with a shrug. "She can be gracious when she wants to be. Just…not with Harry."

Remus forced out a little laugh, but he wasn't especially convinced by this explanation. Perhaps it had something to do with her father being in Gryffindor, or something to do with Harry. Or not wanting Adrasteia to win.

He didn't know, and he doubted he would have a chance to ask her, so he simply smiled when she waved happily up at the table, grinning widely as her father blew her a kiss. Several of the young girls near her tittered with excitement at Sirius's sweet behavior and Catherine ignored their silliness.

"You encourage their behavior too readily," Severus drawled.

Remus knew it had little to do with Catherine, and more to do with the crushes many of the young girls had on Sirius, in spite of knowing he was married with children. Remus had once teased Severus and said that if Sirius weren't there, it would likely be the pair of them getting attention, being the only young and single professors.

"They're young, Severus," Sirius said happily, pouring himself some water. "Let them be young and foolish for a while. They have that luxury."

Whenever Sirius subtly referenced the war like that, Severus would go quite for some time, as he did today. He was still stinging from the loss of the House Cup and his money, but he did grow slightly solemn with the memory of the war.

Remus didn't know what all of their demons were. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

/-/

The feast was a usual one, with speeches by Dumbledore, graduation of the eldest students, and congratulations and awards for those students who topped their years. To Severus, it was all very unnecessary, but he supposed many students needed the praise and adulation to feel worthwhile.

He knew Catherine Black was not one of those students, but he would certainly be giving her rewards come her final year, and her father would possibly cry from pride over her. Severus would feel sorry for her siblings on that day, sitting there, watching their parents and likely much of the school be so impressed with Catherine.

Likely, though, he thought to himself as he finished his water and waited for the appropriate time to leave the feast, there would be time enough for each of them to be praised to the skies. Time would tell.

When he could finally leave, Severus was the first professor to stand and go. He bid the other professors goodnight and to have a pleasant summer, and he stalked back to his quarters to finish packing, as he was leaving first thing after breakfast in the morning.

/-/

Blaise marveled how the first feast of the year no one could ever keep their eyes open once their heads hit the pillow, but the last feast of the year it was almost impossible to sleep afterward. He didn't have anything particular to look forward to over the summer, although Draco had promised they would spend some time together, probably in Wiltshire. Usually, Hogwarts was more interesting for Blaise than anywhere else.

But Draco was so mopey, and Blaise couldn't sleep, so the two of them finished packing slowly while their roommates slept.

For a little bit, Blaise wanted to express his sympathies that Draco had yet to top the year, once again, but he thought it was probably best not to mention it. No doubt it would be the first discussion Draco had with his father as soon as he got home, and having a prequel to that conversation wasn't going to help anything.

"What are you doing for your birthday this year?" he asked, figuring that was probably a safe topic.

"My mother said we were going to spend the day in Greece," Draco said.

Blaise nearly rolled his eyes, but he caught himself.

What was the point going abroad for one day? Granted, it was a great thing to say if you were bragging, that you just popped off to Greece for a day on your birthday. Blaise usually spent his birthday curled up with six blankets and a cup of cocoa, seeing as it was three days before Christmas.

"Where?"

"Not sure. Wherever she decides. I really don't care. It's all crumbling buildings and goats, anyway."

Blaise let out a forced laugh and tossed his trainers into his trunk.

"Any family going with you?"

"The Blacks are apparently going to be in France," Draco said, rubbing his temple.

Now that sounded more interesting, but since Draco seemed to feel the same way, Blaise said nothing. No point rubbing it in that the Blacks had better properties than the Malfoys. Not like the whole world didn't know it.

"Did you see they're coming out with a new racing broom?" Draco said bitterly as he put his Nimbus 2001 in his trunk.

"Yeah. Thunderbolt?"

"Firebolt. My father says the whole Irish Quidditch Team is looking at buying them."

Blaise wasn't so into Quidditch that he kept up with the national teams out of cup years, but he nodded absently. Clearly this meant something of importance to Draco.

"Bet they'll cost a small house."

Draco laughed and nodded, latching his trunk.

/-/

Stepping off the train, Harry was ready to rush out to the main part of King's Cross, but alas, there was a mass of people. Uncle Sirius and Catherine were with him, though, and he had to stick close to them, because they were leaving directly from the train station for Gatwick.

Catherine, Harry learned, had never been on an airplane, and he was excited to know what she made of her ears popping. He wasn't looking forward to the possibility of Caroline sitting behind him and kicking his seat on purpose, but he supposed there were worse possibilities.

"When we get to the airport, you two," Uncle Sirius said sternly, "behave."

"We always behave," Catherine said in her sweetest voice.

It never ceased to astonish Harry that in that moment, one would never have anticipated that anything strange had happened, that Catherine had ever misbehaved in her life. He found it both admirable and disturbing, the way she could just flip a switch like that.

Her father sighed, and they walked out into the main portion of the train station, Caroline rushing up to them, as Catherine had done the year before, when she spotted her father coming through the archway. Harry smiled and let his mother kiss his forehead.

It was summer.

/-/

The airport was crowded. Catherine was very puzzled by the things the Muggles had them walk through and all the lines they had to stand in. Aunt Lily grabbed food for them at some kind of shop – sandwiches in plastic containers – and they sat on chairs waiting for their gate to be announced.

"Daddy?" Catherine asked, resting her head on her father's shoulder as he read a book on Goblin Rebellions.

"Hmm?"

"How does it stay in the air?"

"How does what stay in the air, Kitty-Cat?"

"The plane."

He smiled and said, "Love, why don't you ask Aunt Lily that question? I've got no clue."

/-/

Fabian frowned as he sat down with this man, Mr. Barker, who insisted it was urgent to meet. He wanted to be picking up his daughter at King's Cross with the rest of his family, but Gideon had the flu and so it fell to Fabian to meet with Mr. Barker.

"Mr. Prewett," Mr. Barker said, smiling. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Is it?" Fabian said. He was wary of this man, who seemed innocuous enough. Nobody was fully innocuous, as Fabian learned in the war. "What is it you're after, Mr. Barker?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Prewett," Mr. Barker said with a glittering smile, "I'm an historian, and I'm looking for a bit of information."

Fabian's stomach dropped.

/-/

As it happened, someone thought it would be a good idea to put Harry and Catherine together on the plane, her by her mother, him by his father. He realized pretty quickly that she was anxious, and he almost wanted to say to his dad that he should swap with Uncle Sirius so she felt more secure, but then he saw that Caroline was clutching her father's hand like if she let go she'd fall through the earth and sink forever, so he figured Catherine was going to have to be brave without her father, for once.

"It's safe, you know," he said softly, so her mother wouldn't hear. "The airplane. You're more likely to die in a car than a plane."

Her nose twitched, but she nodded sharply.

"They've got this button here, see? When we're in the air, you can lean your seat back."

"Why would I do that?" she asked, horrified.

Harry shrugged and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"If you want to, I mean," he said. "I didn't say you had to. D'you have a book or something?"

"What if I get sick?" she hissed.

She looked terribly embarrassed to ask, but he thought it wasn't such a silly question. He opened the pouch a bit on the seat-back pocket and showed her the little puke bag and she nodded her understanding sharply.

Suddenly, pity washed over him and he realized he would get absolutely no pleasure out of her suffering.

"You might feel pressure in your head," he said, "and your ears will plug. It's the pressure change, going really high up really quickly. Yawning usually pops your ears and fixes it."

"If it doesn't?" she asked nervously.

"I've got some gum," he said, scratching his cheek. "We shouldn't jerk around much, Kitty. It's a big plane, and we're not going very far, and there aren't any storms or anything. You'll be fine."

Catherine gave him a sour look and closed her eyes, settling into her seat defiantly, and he rolled his eyes. He turned to look over at Uncle Sirius, who was sitting with Caroline by the far window, and Harry's mother was sitting with Jason on the other side.

Uncle Sirius was whispering something to Caroline, who was looking like she was determined to be brave in spite of gripping her father's hand and clearly fighting off an onslaught of tears.

Harry shook his head, frowning. There were just so many things purebloods didn't seem to understand. How anyone could get to eleven and not understand airplanes was beyond Harry.

The announcement that they were cleared for takeoff, telling the flight attendants to sit down, came over the intercom, and Catherine gripped the armrests anxiously.

/-/

Delia frowned as she pressed her ear to the door of her husband's study. He'd gotten a very rare firecall in his study, and from Fabian Prewett, nonetheless.

"He said he was looking into _what_?"

She tried, but she couldn't hear Prewett's response. Her husband sighed and said, "No, no. You were right to call me. I don't know when they'll be back, but I'll send him a message in France so we can arrange to meet as soon as they're back in the country. Have you talked to Severus yet?"

More muffled speaking from Prewett, then Rabastan said, "No, you're right. I'll speak with Severus, then. And you talk to Dorcas. And I'll send a message to Sirius. Oh, damn. Narcissa. No, I'll talk to Narcissa. It's a good thing my brother's already dead."

Something about the way he said that gave Delia a chill down her spine.

Whatever was going on, it was serious business, something from the war. Those people never all got together, and she half expected him to say they were calling in Albus Dumbledore.

"Whatever you do, Prewett, don't tell Dumbledore."

Now that, she thought, was very interesting indeed.

/-/

When the plane landed in France, Harry noticed that Catherine looked a great deal calmer when they'd taken off in England, and when he looked over at Caroline she seemed as though she hadn't been the least bit concerned about the whole matter.

"How are we getting from the airport to the villa?" Catherine asked her mother.

A villa. Harry could have laughed. Of course the Blacks had a villa in France.

"Portkey," Aunt Cara whispered, winking. "Don't worry about customs. We have Squibs who work customs."

Harry wasn't terribly surprised with that, and when they got off the plane they were greeted almost immediately by a uniformed man who spoke perfect, if slightly accented, English.

"Lord Black?" he said to Uncle Sirius.

"Yes," Uncle Sirius said, taking Aunt Cara's arm as he did at society events, with Caroline still clinging to his other hand.

"Follow me please. Your bags have already been procured."

Sirius thanked him and motioned for everyone to come with them, and they were led through the airport, to a special baggage carousel, where a young woman was checking the tags on some trunks.

"All with the same party," she said, again in accented but perfect English. " _Les Potters et les Blacks_."

" _Oui, ces sont les familles_ ," her colleague said, gesturing to them. She counted them by pointing her ballpoint pen at each to see that it checked her records.

" _Bon_ ," she said. "We have your portkey here, and you have five minutes to gather your things and gather around it."

"Five minutes?" Harry said softly as he took his trunk when it was passed to him. "Isn't that cutting it fine?"

"They activated it when we landed," his mother said, smiling, touching the cart that was put in the middle of them. "They knew it wouldn't take long to get us to this room from the gate.

Before Harry could decide if he thought that was wise or not, he felt the familiar hook behind his navel, and he was being transported.

/-/

Anthony rolled his eyes as he read the first note Michael Corner had sent him for their holiday. It was all about what he'd been reading about the new broom that was coming out, rumors about how good it was, how much it would cost (because the adverts only ever said to inquire if interested in purchase, so it was bound to be disgustingly expensive), and who was supposedly purchasing one.

He considered writing back right away and telling Michael how ridiculous the letter was, but he figured he'd let himself cool off first, unpack a little, and explain to his mother why he had, once again, not managed to make top of the year.

"Well, Mother," he practiced as he unlaced his trainers, "there's this girl in my year who isn't exactly human. She regurgitates textbooks." He frowned.

No, that didn't sound any good. He'd have to come up with a better excuse than, "Hermione Granger just isn't natural." That was probably someone else's excuse, anyway, and Anthony preferred to be original.

He couldn't even use the excuse Howard was using about having a teacher's kid in his year, because he didn't have one. Yeah, he had a teacher's godson in his year, but that didn't have the same ring to it.

He supposed he had until dinner to think of something decent and original, and if all else failed he could claim he had the flu the first week of exams. It worked for his brother the year he didn't top the class.

"Anthony?" his father called up the stairs. "Come on down and help with dinner."

Flu it was.

/-/

Even given the regular visits to Selwyn Manor, Harry was stunned by the size and grandeur of the villa. He wondered vaguely if perhaps they hadn't been accidentally transported to some palace or other, but a house-elf appeared almost immediately, taking orders from Sirius in French, which apparently he spoke fluently.

Catherine seemed impressed as well, which was saying something. Hardly anything impressed her, and she took off her coat and glanced at her father anxiously.

"Come on, kids," he said, grinning. "Let's get you moved in to your rooms."

Caroline squealed excitedly, and Harry and Catherine gave each other determined looks, that they were going to beat each other to the best rooms.

"I've already assigned your rooms," Uncle Sirius said sternly, "so there won't be any fighting. Understood?"

The children, except Jason, who was perfectly calm, all grumbled in unison, but Uncle Sirius led the way up the stairs to the second story, a spring in his step as the others looked at the paintings, chandeliers, and gilded ceilings. It felt like stepping into someone else's world, but Harry found it exhilarating.

 **A/N: So, as I was uploading the last chapter – I noticed we've hit the 100 review mark. GO you guys! :D So proud. So, Holiday in France, Catherine is human, and someone named Barker is poking his nose in the past.**

 **Review Prompt: A lot of people are terrified of airplanes, in spite of the relative safety compared with other transportation forms. What's your biggest (possibly irrational) fear?**

 **Mine's bridges. I tense every time I go over a bridge, and if I'm not driving I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pretend I'm on solid ground. I've seen too many real and fictional collapsed bridges. The one in Harry Potter FREAKED me out.**

 **Q &A: SEND ME QUESTIONS, PLEASE!**

 **-C**


	43. Digging Up the Bodies

Catherine complained a little when her father said they were going to have to go back to England before the end of July, that something had come up and he was needed at a meeting.

"But Daddy," she had whined. "There's beaches!"

"Kitty-Cat, I'll take you to Bournemouth or something," he sighed, kissing her cheek.

"Proper beaches," she had said bitterly. "Warm beaches with proper sand."

"You're thinking of Brighton," Harry had said over his bacon, and Catherine had groaned, storming out of the room. She'd finished eating, anyway.

Now, though, she was stretched out on the beach for the last morning. They were flying back that evening, and she wanted to get every moment possible out of that beach, not knowing when she'd get a chance to come back.

Harry sat down beside her, laying back on the beach.

"You're really pale," he said, looking at her skin. "And skinny."

Catherine flicked sand at him lazily and crossed her legs at her ankles.

"Did you have any other brilliant tidbits you wanted to share?" she asked lazily.

"Hmm," he groaned, rolling onto his stomach and looking down at her. "I didn't want to go home so early, either," he said softly. "But whatever it is your dad has to go home for, it seems important."

Catherine nodded.

She acted like she was upset because they were going home early, but really she was upset because she'd not seen her father so serious about something since he was chastising her for the incident in the forest.

"Harry, what electives did you pick?" she asked, deftly changing the topic.

"Care of Magical Creatures and Divination."

She wrinkled her nose and mouthed the last word derisively.

"Ron was signing up," he said defensively, "so I figured I'd sign up too so we could all be together, alright? Anyway, it could be a laugh. George said Trelawney's supposed to be barmy. Even Hermione signed up."

"Hermione signed up for everything," she said loftily. "You could have signed up for real classes, you know. Like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Maths and cave drawings? No thanks."

"Not cave drawings," she laughed.

"Hieroglyphs, then," he said with a wink. "No, not really my thing, Kitty. You're a more serious student than I am."

"I'm hardly a serious student."

"You're taking extra classes, aren't you?" he challenged. "I reckon you're a pretty serious Potions student, if nothing else. Mum's always saying I need to be more like you."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised at this admission. She was flattered than Aunt Lily thought so highly of her, but sometimes her father wished she were more like Harry, she knew. More carefree, sportier.

"I suppose I'll have to clean all the sand off before dinner," she sighed. "Help me up, will you?"

He did, although it was harder on the unstable sand than it would have been on grass or a floor or something solid. They walked back up to the villa and she brushed the sand off her bare arms and was surprised when Harry brushed some of it off her back, right in the middle where she would have had trouble reaching.

"Thanks," she murmured. She thought it would have tickled, but it didn't. Just felt a bit odd to have someone touch her back that wasn't her mother or father.

"Yeah, well, don't want you holding up dinner," he teased.

/-/

Neville frowned.

"What do you mean, we're going to Harry's party?" he asked, puzzled. "I thought the Potters were spending the whole summer in France, with the Blacks."

"They're coming back early," his mother said, shrugging, although he suspected she knew more about it. "Perhaps they didn't enjoy it."

Now, Neville knew that wasn't right. Every letter he got from Harry talked about how much everybody loved France, loved the villa, loved Marseille, loved the beach. He even included a picture of Catherine in a bikini and said they could use it to torture Ron.

She was really pale, but Neville thought perhaps it was just the lighting. Sometimes he came out looking weird in photographs, too.

"So we're going to his party," he said slowly. "Where?"

"Godric's Hollow, I think," his father said slowly. "Although I suppose it could end up being at Selwyn Manor. I'll ask James when they're back in the country."

Neville nodded, and asked if he could get some paper to wrap Harry's gift properly, since they weren't sending it by owl post anymore. His mother said she'd find something suitable he could use, and that was that, apparently.

/-/

Catherine packed up her things, as told, and her father kissed her cheek when she went to tell him that she had finished.

"You like it here?" he asked, tapping her nose with a smile. "Your mother thought you might. Tell you what, if the details work out in future, we'll bring you back again. I promise I'll try."

"Thank you, Daddy," she said, smiling. Then, recalling what Harry said on the beach, she frowned and said, "Daddy, d'you think I'm too skinny?"

Her father's eyebrows shot up and he said, "Certainly not."

"Or too pale?"

He laughed and said, "Kitty-Cat, where's this coming from? Of course you're not too skinny or too pale."

She shrugged and said, "A boy said it."

"A boy," he said, frowning. "Love, boys your age are idiots, almost to a rule. You're beautiful, and he probably said it because he was intimidated by you."

Catherine rolled her eyes, thinking about the way Harry said it so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so," she said.

Her father grinned, shrugged, and said, "Well, darling, I think you're absolutely beautiful, and surely what I think is way more important than whatever any boy thinks."

He seemed to be anxious for her to agree, and really, he was right. What he thought was a million times more important than what Harry thought.

Catherine grinned and said, "Of course, Daddy." She kissed his cheek and hurried downstairs, humming.

/-/

Luna walked with Rhea along the High Street in Ottery St. Catchpole, near where Luna and Ginny lived.

"When do they get back from Egypt?" Luna asked as Rhea watched boys throw pebbles at a bird.

"Erm, about a week before we leave for school, I think," Rhea said, shrugging.

Rhea's uncle (Ginny's father) had won the wizarding lottery, and they'd got enough gold from it to get Ron a new wand (he was still using his brother's old wand) and to take the whole family on a trip to Egypt, where his eldest brother worked as a Curse-Breaker.

Luna thought that was a nice way to spend such earnings. It's what she would do if she had family to visit in far-off places. Perhaps, if she ever won such a thing, she would go looking for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

"Have you seen the new broom?" Rhea said. "The Firebolt? Too bad it's probably crazy expensive."

"I'm sure you'll make the team without it," Luna said happily. "Ginny says you fly very fast."

"Yeah," Rhea said, rubbing her arms and frowning at the boys. "If I had a proper broom, like what Harry and Malfoy have."

Luna knew Rhea was just making herself nervous for no reason, but she also knew it wouldn't do much good to point this out, so they kept walking.

/-/

Lily, Sirius, Dorcas, Fabian, Rabastan, Severus, and Narcissa sat together in Godric's Hollow. The rest of the Potter and Black clans were at Selwyn Manor, but this gathering was about something far more serious than birthday parties or holidays.

"Alright," Fabian said, frowning. "Mr. Barker. He's apparently an historian, and he's been writing a book on the war."

"Plenty of books have been written on the war," Severus said, frowning. "We've never called everyone in over something like this before."

"Not everyone," Lily said, frowning. "Cara's not here."

"And she's not going to be here."

The firm voice was not Sirius, surprisingly, but Dorcas, who was actually shaking. Fabian put a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know the details of what happened when Voldemort died," Fabian said, frowning. "It's possible not everyone around this table knows, either, but I know that it has to do with Cara, and that the party line doesn't have to do with Cara. The reason she's not here is because we called this meeting to protect her from public knowledge on this matter. He's not just writing about the war, Severus. He's found discrepancies and puzzles in the reports of that night, and he's digging into it. He wants to do interviews, everyone in the Order, all surviving Death Eaters, spies, people who were there on that night, Aurors who investigated it."

"No one knows enough to give him the story," Rabastan said firmly.

"No one but us," Sirius said hoarsely. "Us and Cara."

Lily could feel her stomach. Surely Cara wouldn't say anything. Oh, but she knew as well as Sirius did that if Cara even hesitated – and she hadn't had to lie properly in years – she would signal to this Barker that there was something to be learned, something that wasn't in the official reports.

"And then there's the matter of the children," Fabian said softly. "Kitty, Jason, Caro. They don't know anything about your involvement, either of you. If this is dug into, really dug into…." Sirius shivered. "And our children knew we fought in the war, but they've not asked questions yet. I…I'd rather keep it that way."

Lily hadn't done anything really drastic, spying or fighting, but she'd been in a firefight or two, and James had certainly blown up a building or two, when the occasion called for it. Could she look Harry in the eye and try to explain that? He wasn't thirteen yet. And Narcissa and Rabastan would have a lot to try to explain, surely.

"We could block it being approved for publication," Rabastan said thoughtfully. "I've got people who would be happy to do the favor."

"No," Sirius said sternly. "No, that would only confirm his suspicions that something isn't right. We can't throw our weight around if we want him to drop the conspiracy theory stuff."

Lily rubbed her eyes, nodding in agreement.

"So," she said, "the real question is, what do we do? I could make a list a mile long of what not to do, but what do we actually _do_?"

"For the moment?" Severus said softly. "For the moment we let him have whatever he wants. If he doesn't get close to Cara, maybe he won't find anything at all. If we all get jumpy and synchronized, however, he'll suspect. We fought a war. If we can't fool a stupid historian, well, what good are we?"

It didn't sit well with Lily, and it didn't seem to sit well with Sirius, but it was the best anyone around the table could come up with, so it was agreed, for the moment, to do nothing to impede Mr. Barker, but to discuss the matter by the old methods, as frequently as necessary, with Sirius having final say, as the matter was to do with his wife.

Lily and Sirius paused when the others left, and she was about to ask him what he was going to do if it didn't work out, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette before she could say a word.

She didn't need any other answer. He was terrified.

/-/

Aeson didn't ask questions, but he could see quite plainly that there was something going on with his parents when his father came back from his business meeting. His mother seemed to know something about it, something more than his father had said, because she seemed upset about whatever it was. Aeson asked if they were going to see the Blacks now that they were back at Selwyn Manor for the summer.

"They're not," his father said sharply. "They're going to Grimmauld Place for the remainder of the summer."

Brontes's head snapped up with surprise, which was the first clue that something was weird about this, because Brontes never reacted strongly to things.

"But they never spend the summer there," he said, realizing everyone was looking at him.

"Hmm," their father said, frowning and looking down at his plate and saying, "I did not ask Sirius why they opted for that. I suppose it might have something to do with training his new house-elf. Now, pass the potatoes, Adra."

/-/

Damon watched the strange man through the window, frowning. Whoever he was, he made Damon's parents uneasy, although they were very good at not looking uneasy. He wanted to speak with Damon's mother, and the children weren't supposed to come in while he was visiting. Something to do with work, they were told, although Rhea was confused by this explanation.

Their father came out, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling weakly.

"Sorry, you guys," he said, shrugging. "He wants to interview your mum. Interviewed me earlier in the week."

Rhea sat up straighter, and Damon narrowed his eyes.

Ourania, though, was the first person to speak, as usual.

"Interviewed?" she asked. "What for?"

"Ah, you remember how I told you that your mum and I met fighting in the war?" They all nodded. "He's interviewing lots of people who fought in the war, and he started with us because our names are in lots of lists and stuff. We work in the Ministry, right? So there's lots of paperwork with our signatures and the like. It's nothing to be worried about. He's just writing another book about the war."

"There's lots of those," Rhea said softly. "What's different about his?"

"Dunno, pet," their father lied. Cora and Damon exchanged a glance, both seeing the lie in the way he scratched his chin. "I suppose he thinks he's found something other people didn't. We've been interviewed a hundred times. It's really nothing. Just will be easier for your mum to talk and remember if we're all out of her hair."

Again with the lies. Damon looked over his shoulder, frowning as he tried to make out what they were saying. But the door handle of the glass door was right in the way of his mother's mouth, and he couldn't get anything of value. It was frustrating, but he supposed these things happened.

"When are our cousins coming back from Egypt?" Rhea asked, deftly changing the topic and drawing attention away from the house.

Their father told them the date, which was weeks away, and started talking about his latest letter from Aunt Molly, about how silly the boys were around the tombs and how she had to watch Fred and George constantly to keep them from shutting Percy up in one. Damon never would have said it out loud, but he wished they'd succeed. Percy drove him up the wall, always bothering people who were happier without his input. He even told Damon how to play with his own toys.

/-/

Two days after the strange man came, Ourania jumped up and down on Rhea's bed and asked her what all her books were, how she did on her exams, and what she was going to get when they went to Diagon Alley, when they took her school shopping.

She asked all these same questions when Rhea first got home, but she was bored and she'd already forgotten half of the answers.

"If you don't get off my bed, I'll hex you," Rhea said coolly in a tone Ourania hardly recognized as her sister's voice.

"You can't," Ourania said, freezing when her feet landed on the bed again. "You're not supposed to use magic outside of school."

She was sure she'd heard Ginny say that when they picked them up at the train station.

Rhea sniffed, confirming Ourania's suspicions, but jumping had lost its fun, so she hopped down, anyway, and told Rhea to be sure to ask if they could get ice cream when they went shopping.

/-/

Draco ignored the yelling his father was doing after the man left. He'd shut himself up with both of Draco's parents for long periods of time, introduced himself as a Mr. Barker, which seemed to mean something to Draco's mother. Then the man left, without saying a word to Draco, or even really in front of him.

As soon as Barker left, his parents told him to go to his room and they began to fight, which they usually didn't do when he was anywhere near enough to overhear them.

He thought about writing to Harry or Neville or Catherine to see if they'd seen this man as well, but if they hadn't he didn't want to invite questions. Better to not say anything and wait for them to ask him, as he was certain they would do.

Whoever he was, this Mr. Barker, he seemed to make people nervous. Government, perhaps, something to do with money, or health concerns. Perhaps he was investigating someone his parents knew, and one parent thought they should cooperate with him while the other thought they should avoid dealing with him. The question of which likely depended on what person was being investigated.

Draco thought about trying to listen in, but there didn't seem much point. If he listened in, he'd only hear his father's side of things, anyway, and Draco was clever enough to know that it was his mother's side he really wanted to hear. And she never said anything worth hearing loud enough to be overheard in other rooms.

With a heavy sigh, Draco decided perhaps it was best to just go to bed and decide what he was going to do about the matter in the morning. There was plenty of time, surely. No one was arrested, yet, and that meant everyone would be there in the morning to answer his questions, if he decided he had any.

Maybe a few careful ones to his mother wouldn't go amiss, just to get a sense of what they were dealing with.

 **A/N: So, the year's concern has presented itself in the form of Mr. Barker.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were presented with a problem like Mr. Barker, would you handle it like Severus suggests, or would you have a different method?**

 **Q &A: ASK ME QUESTIONS PLEASE!**

 **-C**


	44. Expectations

Ron wrote a letter to Harry while Ginny sat in the hotel window, looking out at the market streets below.

"Have you written Kitty recently?" he asked.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and said, "I've written her every week. Are you only just writing Harry now?"

Ron groaned. It was Harry's birthday coming up, and they wouldn't be back in time to make it, even though the Potters and Blacks were apparently back in England. That was a strange thing, and Ron wondered what had happened, what this "thing" was that had all their parents nervous.

"What should I get Harry for his birthday?" Ron asked, but Ginny just rolled her eyes and went to her room, not interested in his dilemmas.

It was a bit of an ask, he thought, expecting Ginny to care what he got for Harry. Catherine and Harry might have a truce, but that didn't mean that they weren't going to be fiercely competitive in all appropriate ways.

"Get him something from one of those market vendors," Fred said, grinning. "They've got all kinds of cool things. Like remember those Sneakoscopes? Those were pretty cool. Harry likes stuff like that, doesn't he? Defense?"

The Sneakoscopes were a kind of Dark detector, and would make noise if someone nearby was untrustworthy. Given the situation they'd gone through last year, it wasn't a bad suggestion, and Ron supposed Fred had that in mind when he made it.

Still, some of the vendors had them for pretty cheap, so it was a practical suggestion as well, and Ron decided that when they next went out to the market, he would get a Sneakoscope for Harry.

"What are you two planning, then?" Ron asked suspiciously as the twins bent over a few large, ink-covered bits of parchment. After their third attempt to shut Percy up in a tomb, he thought they'd tire of things like that, but it seemed that they were very tightly caught up in whatever they were doing.

"We're planning and pooling our resources," George said, grinning. "Bill's loaning us money for a gift, and we want to make good use of it."

Ron didn't have to ask who the gift was for. A couple of years ago, it would have been something for Lee Jordan, but they seemed to have taken Catherine Black under their wing, so to speak, and were eagerly teaching her everything they knew. Ron felt a slight sting of disappointment when he realized that they were going to get Catherine something in Egypt, and he'd gotten her nothing.

He didn't have enough pocket money to get something for both Harry and Catherine, and while Bill might loan him money as well if he asked, Ron had no prospects for paying his brother back in the foreseeable future.

No, he would get Harry the Sneakoscope and not get something for Catherine. Besides, there was no way to give it to her without it looking a bit suspicious, and maybe even a bit silly. He felt his ears begin to burn as he turned his attention back to his letter.

/-/

Ginny watched Ron try to haggle for a Sneakoscope and she tried not to laugh. She had to admit, it was a good gift selection. If she hadn't heard Fred suggest it, she'd have been thoroughly impressed.

Luna, Rhea, and Catherine had all written Ginny frequently, and she was surprisingly unashamed that they all sent an extra bit of parchment in each letter so that she could keep up a high level of correspondence with minimal extra cost to her parents. Yes, her father had won the Draw, but it wasn't cheap to bring five children to a foreign country for the summer. They got new robes as well, which Ginny and Ron had both desperately needed, so Ginny didn't want to think how much of the gold had run out.

She didn't tell Ron that Bill had given her some extra pocket money, no strings attached, to get gifts for her friends. When she'd told him about Catherine's house, and that her family had two homes in England and a villa in France, he'd volunteered money for her, saying that such a girl would have expectations, whether consciously or not.

Ginny wasn't so sure, but she accepted the money anyway.

Now she supposed she ought to give her brother a hand with his pathetic bartering attempts, if only to end everyone's suffering.

/-/

Jason sat with Catherine at Florean Fortescue's, trying to decide what to get for Harry for his birthday.

"Apparently, thirteen is important," she said lazily, stabbing her spoon at her raspberry-peanut butter swirl. "Daddy says the third years get to visit Hogsmeade on some weekends. About monthly."

"That's cool," Jason said, watching the vigor with which she stabbed her ice cream. She'd stopped getting cones ages ago, said they were childish. Jason just liked the way they tasted when he finished the ice cream.

"It's not fair," she said, pouting. "He and his friends will all be going without me."

"You'll have the castle without him."

Catherine considered these words, her eyes seeming to turn over this suggestion, and then her eyes brightened. Surely she saw the possibilities he was suggesting, because she changed the subject back to presents.

"There's always sweets," she said. "Or joke items."

"Everybody gets sweets," Jason pointed out. "And he'll be able to go to Zonko's when he visits Hogsmeade, yeah?"

"Well, what do you suggest?" she demanded through a mouthful of ice cream. She swallowed. "Owl pellets?"

"Hardly," Jason said, laughing. Next year he'd get his own letter and he wanted to get an owl, he thought. But he saw that as a practical matter, and not something for birthday presents. "What about a book?"

"Harry despises reading," she said loftily. "He's not you, you know. Think about what you'd get for…for Caro."

Jason hummed and the two fell into companionable silence again, waiting for their mother to finish getting new robes for a quickly-growing Caroline.

"Quidditch," he suggested. "Harry loves Quidditch."

Catherine nodded thoughtfully, seeming to be running through a list in her mind, perhaps everything Harry already had that was related to Quidditch, potentially to think of the stock at Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"I reckon it's hard to see when it rains," she said.

"With his glasses, sure."

"Rains a lot in Scotland."

They grinned at each other and quickly finished their ice cream.

/-/

Draco opened his school list for the year and pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form. He read it lazily, slid it across the table to his mother, who said she would sign it after breakfast.

"Is it a particularly long list?" she asked.

He knew she was referring to his new courses, but he shook his head. He was a bit puzzled by the book called _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , which didn't sound like it boded well, but otherwise it was a pretty standard school list.

"Whatever your father says," his mother said as soon as his father left for a meeting with someone for some financial consideration, "I'm pleased with your scores. It's not your fault, you know, that there's a girl in your year who is far above average. That's out of your hands. All you can do is your best."

Draco hummed as a response. His heart wanted her to be right, but he couldn't help agreeing a bit with his father's point of view. It wasn't that Hermione was a Muggle-born. It was that he knew she wasn't necessarily a particularly creative thinker. He'd seen her regurgitate knowledge, but the further they went into their schooling, the more that wasn't going to be enough, and that was when he needed to press his advantage. He wasn't positive that he was an especially creative thinker, but it was all he had to hope for. That he could recognize this in her meant he was going a step in the right direction, anyway.

/-/

Lily sat down and watched James pull the cake out of the oven, turning it to get a sense of how even it had come out.

"What d'you reckon?" he asked.

She smiled and said, "I think you've finally done it right the first time, love. Go ahead and chill it. We can decorate it after lunch."

He nodded, putting it in the fridge.

"You've been quiet lately," he said, sitting down across from her, tossing the tea-towel he'd been holding over his shoulder almost comically.

Lily looked up at his earnest eyes and for a moment she wanted to tell him everything on her shoulders, about why they'd had to come back from France early, about everything going on with this Barker fellow, about Sirius's fears and the secrets she was keeping for him, for Cara's sake.

"Just been thinking about a lot of things."

"Good things or bad things?"

Her heart was pounding palpably in her chest. She was hyperaware of every noise in the kitchen.

"Most things are both, I think," she said, not wanting to seem too dismissive. "Shall we mix the icing, then?"

/-/

"Mum?" Hermione called, pulling out the Hogsmeade permission form. "I need you to sign something for school."

Her mother came out of the kitchen, looking slightly surprised.

"What's this, then?" she asked, taking the form that Hermione held out. "Hogsmeade? That sounds very…different."

"It's one of the only wholly wizarding communities in Britain," Hermione said brightly. She was quite eager to explore it, and that she would have four years to do so was exciting to her. "It's a special treat for the students, only about once a month."

Hermione knew that her mother would have no reservations about signing the form. She trusted Hermione as a responsible person, which Hermione wished she could always say she lived up to. Her own involvement in the Great Prank War made her feel guilty several times over the summer when she skirted around the issue when telling stories to her parents about her year at Hogwarts.

There were certain things her parents were certainly happier not knowing.

/-/

Sirius could feel his stomach turning as he opened a letter from one Mr. Barker. His eyes scanned the parchment, Barker wishing to set a date to meet with him in the next few months, at Sirius's leisure, to discuss for his book Sirius's experiences in the war.

On both sides.

He vaguely heard Catherine ask him something in her sweetest voice, but his mind didn't but together what the words were.

"Ask your Mum, dear," he said, taking the letter and walking directly to his study to answer it. He had to put this to bed, and he had to do it carefully. Everything else could wait.

First, he shot off a message to Severus and said that he wanted to organize to meet this Barker together. It would make sense to Barker to have two spies, two Death Eaters, to talk to at once, the two men who were actually there when Voldemort died. But more important, Sirius and Severus together had significant power to be impressive and intimidating, and Sirius was banking on that to keep the more dangerous questions at bay.

It was a risky consideration, but it was all they had for the moment.

Severus sent a quick affirmative through his Patronus and Sirius began to draft the letter, offering two for the price of one for Barker's troubles. Surely he would want to meet with them both, Sirius suggested. Of course, they would be together at Hogwarts in September, and surely Barker could meet with both at once. And wouldn't that be so helpful for Barker?

He knew that being too helpful would be a red flag to someone with experience, but Sirius was hopeful that a combination of factors would work in his favor, that Cara could be kept out of everything safely.

Sirius sent the letter and closed his eyes. The only thing now was to wait.

/-/

Remus dropped by Grimmauld Place and Sirius came out to the street, not wanting to discuss business in the house, where Sirius's wife and daughters might overhear.

"So tell me it's not who I think taking over from Kettleburn," Sirius said with a grin.

"Of course it is," Remus said with a laugh. "Only Hagrid would assign a book that bites. I hope Kitty's not thinking of Care of Magical Creatures."

Sirius snorted and said, "If she had been, she won't be now. Hagrid's lovely, but…a bit naïve. She likes a challenge. Harry will enjoy it, anyway."

Remus hummed and handed Sirius a letter he'd received, a letter from a Mr. Barker, who was interested in Remus's work with the werewolves, and as a member of the Order.

"I see," Sirius said softly, reading over the letter. "You don't know anything dangerous, Moony. Nothing…nothing really dangerous. You go ahead and give that interview. It's not like he expects deep dark secrets from you. You weren't there. He's probably just going down the list of Order of Merlin recipients from the war."

Remus hoped that was truly all it was.

/-/

Harry sat down at the dinner table the night of his thirteenth birthday to the Longbottoms and Blacks and his own parents all sitting around. He caught Catherine's eye from across the table and smiled a little to himself at the thought of the flying goggles she and Jason had gotten for him, which his father could get charmed to the prescription for his glasses. It was surprisingly thoughtful of them, and Caroline had only gotten him chocolate.

The meal was delicious, and his father brought out a cake at the end that was a Quidditch pitch, with stadium seats and candy-sugar hoops and everything.

After dinner, Caroline and Neville wanted him to play with his new things, but he just wanted to take a nice walk in the garden while it was still warm enough to take evening strolls. He even asked his mother if he could walk to the church and back, and she said only if someone else went with him. To his surprise, Catherine said she could do with a walk.

Uncle Sirius perked up at this, and even seemed as though he didn't like the sound of them taking evening walks together, but since there were no forbidden forests nearby, he relaxed again and they took off toward the church.

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets as they crossed the street, not because they were cold, but for something to do. Catherine tossed a bit of her dark hair over her shoulder with a graceful jerk of her head.

"You've noticed their tenseness," Harry said softly. "Mum and your dad. There's something wrong."

"Whatever it is that brought us back from France," Catherine said with a slight sniff. "Uncle Remus came by this afternoon. Didn't come inside, but I saw him and Daddy on the stoop, talking. They were too quiet for me to hear, even when I opened the window." She licked her lips and said, "Daddy half-smoked three cigarettes before he came back in, so whatever they were talking about, it really upset him."

The two walked toward the church, with the graveyard nestled beside it. Harry paused by a bench and they sat down, not ready to go back. He leaned back and she sat up perfectly straight, with all her usual confidence. He just wished she would relax more, come back to his level, look him in the eye.

Moonlight suited her hair, was a thought that danced across his consciousness before dancing away again just as suddenly, and he focused his thoughts on the issue of whatever was bothering the adults.

"Neville said he'd gotten a letter from Luna, and she reckoned that both of Rhea's parents were upset."

"I got a letter like that, too," Catherine said softly. "I suppose we'll find out in good time, then, won't we?"

Harry hummed, looking up at the stars and wondering if he'd learn to read his future in them in Divination. He wasn't sure why, but he liked the idea that his story was already written out in some small way, and that all he had to do was live it to fill in the details.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Catherine whispered, and Harry thanked her, secretly glad she'd walked with him, just he like was secretly glad they were in truce. Somehow, life never seemed quite the way it was supposed to be when he and Catherine were fighting.

/-/

Rabastan rubbed his eyes as he agreed with Delia to take the children to Diagon Alley in three days. He wasn't really thinking about Diagon Alley, or about school shopping. He was thinking about Cara, about Barker, about his nieces and nephew and how it would change their lives if they ever truly knew the role their mother had in the war. Someday they would know about their father, because he was already mentioned in many books about the war, but Cara had been kept in peace for so long, that to lose that now….

"You aren't listening to me," Delia said softly. "What is it that bothers you?"

He rubbed his forehead. He couldn't tell Delia. It wasn't his place to tell Delia, and yet he felt he had a responsibility to tell her _something_ of what was on his mind.

"There is a reporter who is sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," he said. "Or, historian, rather. It amounts to the same thing. He wants to rewrite the history we've so carefully written."

"To reflect what?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Rabastan felt his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at the sculpture he was making for Cara's birthday. Still so much to do to it.

"A truth."

Delia said nothing for a long time, but when she did speak, she said, "Cara. It's something to do with Cara, isn't it?"

Rabastan said nothing. He knew his wife had no real troubles with Cara, that Delia didn't really begrudge her anything because of her childhood status. And yet there was something in her tone, something almost aggressive….

"Your sister is important," she said, with a strained patience. "I realize that. But whatever this truth is, why would you protect it, protect her, over what you do for me, or for our children? You are always willing to throw yourself into the fray for her or her family, in ways you would never do for us. Why?"

He looked at his wife, astonished. He had married her because he loved her, and he had always taken it for granted that she knew that, but what if she didn't? What if she really didn't understand how he felt?

"Delia," he said softly, "I protect Cara, and I protect Catherine and Jason and Caroline and even Sirius, because they are vulnerable." She snorted. "No, you don't understand. They need protection more than you or I or our children could ever need it."

"They have Dumbledore," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Sirius was his pet during the war, and still sits at his heels now. That's all the protection anyone could need."

"People said that about the Dark Lord once," Rabastan said, looking back down at the sculpture. "They were wrong. They protected me, they gave me options, in during a time when they had the power I couldn't have for my choices, and now I am doing what I can to protect them from things outside their control."

Delia took a few steps toward him and said, "This truth, Rabastan, what does it hurt? Would it destroy anything of value?"

He closed his eyes, the small, delicate frame of a sixteen-year-old Cara as she cried, just before Bellatrix forcefully sealed her memories. There was no telling how the unveiling of the truth might impact her after all she had gone through. And her children….and Sirius….

"It might."

Delia said nothing for several minutes, simply wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. He took some small comfort in the way her small body fit against his.

"I believe," she finally told him, "that truth will always come out in the end, and I have a feeling that it won't be as destructive as you fear. Why fight the tide?"

"In case it is," he said, kissing the top of her head. "In case I have to."

 **A/N: So, Barker still looms and another year of Hogwarts is on the horizon.**

 **Review Prompt: With Harry and Kitty in a truce, what drama might work through the halls of Hogwarts this year?**

 **Q &A: In response to a reader request, I'm just going to take a moment to assure you that NO ONE is marrying a cousin in this story. Hope that assuages some fears.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	45. Stillness

Harry stared up at the clock on the wall, itching to talk to Catherine. He'd had the strangest dream after reading his textbook, and he just had to tell her about it, but he could see as he stared at the clock that it was after her bedtime, and he'd made a promise to both of their parents that he wouldn't use his mirror to call her after hours.

So what did he do?

He supposed he could fly there, only he wasn't sure he knew the way. He could take Muggle transportation, but he wasn't sure which tube station, and that was after he got to London. It would take ages. There was always the Knight Bus, but then he'd have to unlock the door when he got there, and that would surely wake up her father. It didn't have the same ward protection as the Manor, though.

And there was one solid way to get around waking Uncle Sirius. He thought.

Harry crept down to the kitchen and found the Floo Powder creeping into the sitting room and hoping neither of his parents were sleeping lightly. He held his breath and dropped a small pinch into the fire to get it started. The fire burned emerald green and he tried to remember where it would come out the other end. The kitchen, he thought.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he said, standing in the fire and dropping a large handful of the powder into the flames.

He forcefully tucked in his elbows and stepped out at the right grate, brushing himself off habitually, looking around the quiet kitchen.

Kreacher moved forward, frowning at him.

"Master Harry?" he said. "What is Master Harry doing here, Kreacher wonders?"

"I've come to see Kitty," Harry said, smiling at Kreacher. "It's a surprise. I'll only be here for a little while."

Kreacher narrowed his eyes, but he didn't call for Uncle Sirius, so Harry supposed it was tiredness and not suspicion. He crept upstairs, hopping the stairs that creaked slightly, letting his footfalls dissipate before taking another step – the long way to get to Catherine's room, he mused bitterly.

He didn't knock on her door, worried about waking one of her siblings. Instead he slipped inside and tip-toed across the room, sitting on the side of her bed. The moonlight through the blinds glanced off her hair, and he was ever-so-briefly reminded of his chance thought when they had gone for a walk on his birthday. His hand twitched to touch her hair, but he stopped himself, thinking that was kind of weird, no matter how soft and shiny it looked.

"Kitty," he hissed into the darkness.

Her pale nose twitched, but otherwise she did not stir. Harry sighed with disappointment.

"Kitty," he repeated, touching her marble-like shoulder. It was astonishing, how cold it looked and how warm it really was.

Catherine awoke with a start and a gasp, her eyes large and stunned at the sight of him there.

"What is it?" she whispered, frowning at him. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to speak with you," he said, and she frowned, just blinking at him.

Finally, she answered back, "Well? What did you want to say?"

/-/

Hannah lit a candle in her room and sat up with her newly-purchased textbooks. She wasn't much of a bookworm, but the last two years she had scraped by in a couple of subjects she knew she could do better in. What with two new classes this year, she was already beginning to feel the pressures of extra coursework just from feeling the weight of the extra course books when she'd purchased them.

More than that, her parents had agreed to sign the permission form letting her go to Hogsmeade, saying that they allowed her to go because they knew she was responsible enough to get her work done first and have fun after. She took those words to heart, then, deciding to get a head start on her reading. Perhaps the more she did now, the less she would have to do later.

Still, she dreaded Potions. None of the plants stayed in her head, none of the stirring patterns came naturally to her hands, and there was never a time she could imagine being at ease in that awful dungeon with Professor Snape hovering over her like an overgrown bat. But she would try, anyway. It was all she could do.

/-/

Harry felt a bit foolish, telling Catherine about his dream, coming all the way to London to tell her about this strange dream he had about snakes and rats and a monstrous thing that was shaped generally like a man – and yet somehow it was not human in Harry's eyes.

"It's a bit of foolishness, isn't it?" he asked. "I mean, it's just a dream."

"Did you fall asleep reading your history textbook?" she asked, pulling her knees to her chest under her duvet, hugging them to her.

"Yes."

Catherine shrugged, smiled a little and said, "Well, there you are, Harry. I fall asleep dreaming all kinds of things when I read my Potions text before bed. Daddy hasn't let me see your textbook yet. Are there things in it from the war?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

Their parents had been alive during the war, they knew, and had fought during it in various ways, but all four adults had been very tight-lipped about how things had happened, and how they'd been involved. Uncle Sirius said they'd find out soon enough in school, but he'd sheltered his children especially from early or accidental knowledge of it.

"Kitty, you don't suppose it's got something to do with what's got all the adults nervous, do you?"

"What, your textbooks?"

"The war."

It was hard to be certain in this light, but he thought she'd gone a bit pale. Catherine licked her lips, looking up at the window where a small sliver of moonlight could be seen.

"It's possible," she whispered. "Daddy's always…."

Her voice trailed to nothing and she frowned, holding her finger to her lips. She looked back and forth like she was listening for something, and he watched her ears roll forward slightly, like a cat or a dog turning their ears to a sound. She was just about to shake her head, her whole body relaxing like it was nothing after all, when the door opened.

Uncle Sirius frowned in at them, his wand out and lit, but not in a threatening way.

"Harry," he said tightly, frowning. "You're very lucky your mother didn't hear you wake in the night and panic over where you'd gone. Kreacher thought he ought to tell me you were here when you didn't come down again very quickly. Seemed to think you were somehow old enough for me to be worried about Kitty-Cat's honor."

Harry made a small gagging sound in his throat, and Catherine spluttered and groaned in disgust. Uncle Sirius's expression softened, but he said, "Look, Harry, we didn't make the rule about the curfew and the mirrors so you could feel justified sneaking out of the house. Whatever it is you wanted to say to Kitty, it could have waited until morning, couldn't it?"

Harry just shrugged in response. To him, dreams needed to be retold as quickly as possible on waking, or they vanish, and so waiting seemed silly, but he supposed he could understand where Uncle Sirius was coming from.

"Come on, then," Uncle Sirius said with a sigh. "I'll get you home again and we'll not tell your parents about this if you promise not to pull this particular stunt again. Deal?"

Unable to resist, Harry agreed, said goodnight to Catherine, and allowed Uncle Sirius to take him home.

/-/

Adrasteia picked up her books without trouble, grabbed her fresh Potions ingredients without comment, and relished the opportunity to watch her young cousin, Astoria Greengrass, be fitted for her new Hogwarts robes.

There was no question in Adrasteia's mind, nor Daphne Greengrass's mind, that Astoria would be Sorted into Slytherin, and so this would make up for the Blacks, the cousins who would be a disappointment, it would seem, to Adrasteia. Particularly Catherine Black.

/-/

If Catherine had some sort of lingering annoyance at being woken up in the middle of the night, she wasn't showing it when their families met up in Diagon Alley for school shopping. In fact, she seemed to Harry to be in particularly good spirits, dragging him from bookshelf to bookshelf, pulling him to the apothecary, the ice cream parlor, Madam Malkin's, and lastly to Quality Quidditch Supplies, which she knew he would enjoy the most.

"We have to get your goggles set for the year," she told him brightly.

Harry marveled at the change in her since the last year, when she'd been so stuck up like Adrasteia Lestrange. This year, Catherine was more like Ginny, more vibrant and fun-loving, the way he liked her most.

Their parents followed behind, laughing at them, as the two of them hurried through crowded streets to get to the Quidditch shop.

/-/

When they stepped into the shop, Harry's eyes caught the display of the new broom, the Firebolt, and Catherine watched his jaw literally drop. She realized he was, in a sense, in love with this broom, and it was almost comical when his father stepped in a moment later and his jaw did the very same thing.

She followed Harry to the broom as his mother took command of the whole reason they'd come: getting his goggles Charmed to his specifications.

"It's beautiful," Harry said, almost breathlessly, as they approached the display. "D'you know, the whole Irish National Team have them?"

"They're good, right?" she asked, not especially interested in international Quidditch. She cheered for England and left the rest to itself.

"Brilliant," he said excitedly. "I think they might win the next Cup, you know." He squinted to read the specs on the sign. "I bet it costs a small fortune."

Catherine almost made a joke about how he had a big one, so it didn't matter, but it seemed in poor taste when she could see the little boys from clearly middle-class backgrounds pressing their faces to the window, ogling that same broom. Even if they couldn't hear her, it didn't feel right.

"I think yours is better-looking," she said honestly. "This looks a bit scraggly."

"But the straight tail has its advantages," Harry said excitedly. "Look, see here where it has the zero-to-sixty numbers?"

She nodded that she did, and she let him regale her with stats about how much better this broom was than his. She didn't pay attention to the words, but let the excitement in his voice roll over her as she looked at the broomstick.

Catherine really didn't understand. It was just a broomstick, just wood and charms, nothing on her father's motorbike with its intricate machinery. But somehow, it made Harry so inordinately pleased. There was a bright tone to his voice that hadn't been there when he'd told her about his nightmare, when he'd snuck into her bedroom in London in the middle of the night, but his voice had that same breathless quality that she never heard anywhere else. She'd never heard him use it before, in all her life, no matter who he was talking to, or what about, but she thought she liked it. Especially now his voice was changing, now he was starting to get a deep voice like his father, there was something softer in the breathlessness that reminded her more of the gentle voice of his mother.

"Harry?" Aunt Lily said. "Kitty? It's done. We need to go back to Florean's if we don't want to be late."

Both children exchanged excited glances and hopped happily away from Quality Quidditch Supplies ahead of their parents, the same way they had come without realizing that there was anything comical in this abrupt change in focus.

/-/

Almost first thing back in England, the Weasleys went to Diagon Alley to get their Hogwarts things, and the Prewetts, Longbottoms, Blacks, and Potters all arranged to meet together. Ginny was surprised to see Luna there as well, but Professor Black greeted Luna's rather eccentric father as an old friend, and Ginny supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. Professor Black seemed to know everyone.

"You'll have to come to Selwyn Manor when you've finished your shopping," Professor Black said merrily. "All of you. Plenty of room, plenty of food!"

Ginny happened to know that the Blacks had spent the end of their summer in London, so he must have planned this meeting, and planned to have them all over for a dinner party the night before the train to Hogwarts.

Catherine hugged Ginny happily and told her that she wanted to hear all about Egypt, but then she was snatched away by George, who wanted to tell her all about their experiences trying to shut Percy up in a tomb.

"She's not changed a bit," Ginny said to Luna softly as she greeted the pale girl.

"On the contrary," Luna said, leading the way to the bookstore. "She's changed considerably."

Ginny didn't see how, but she said nothing.

/-/

Rhea enjoyed the weight of her books as she walked up the walkway to Selwyn Manor with her family. Her mother was talking in a low voice with Professor Black, and her father was joking merrily with Mr. Potter, and she was walking in step with Cora and Luna, who were talking around her about a plant Rhea had never heard of. Namely, Cora was being polite.

"I think it will be lovely," Luna said, tossing a wave of her blonde tresses over her shoulder. "Kitty says their new house-elf is quite something. Dobby, she said his name was. He takes a salary."

"Seriously?" Cora asked, puzzled. "I didn't know they did such a thing."

"Bet Mum's pleased," Rhea said, smiling a little. "She's had such a time trying to get house-elves to stand up for themselves."

They all smiled, walking through the gate and up to the front door, where Professor Black ushered all of them in, greeting and welcoming each by name and saying something kind to all the children.

"Remarkable," he said, bending slightly to get a better look at Cora's face. "You look more and more like your mother every time I see you."

Cora blushed and Rhea smiled slightly, knowing that while it was true, he was flattering her intentionally. Still, Professor Black was terribly charming, so one hardly minded.

/-/

Jason took a seat across from Cora Prewett, and he smiled at her weakly. She was a nice girl, and they would often sit in a room and read together, although they rarely spoke. It was good to have a familiar face across the table, and a friendly one, when the room was so terribly crowded. He knew his father enjoyed when the house was full of friends, but Jason would so have preferred a small room with a few friendly faces.

/-/

Aeson followed his brother upstairs to bed and tried not to say out loud what he was thinking. If he were being honest with himself, he was looking forward to Adrasteia leaving again for school. She'd been insufferable since she'd come home, knowing all kinds of things they didn't know and having friends they weren't acquainted with. Their mother was doting on her like she was some sort of special thing, and their father was too wrapped up in his business matters to care or notice.

But her brothers noticed, and Aeson thought it was terrible that she'd become more and more difficult to be around. He liked her better when she and Catherine were speaking, but now Adrasteia didn't want anything to do with the Blacks, and seemed to only want to see their mother's family. As charming as the Greengrasses were – Aeson thought bitterly – he would so much rather spend time with Caroline Black than be stuck in a room with all the stuffy Greengrasses.

"She leaves tomorrow," he said with false casualness to his brother. Brontes simple nodded, but Aeson knew he understood.

/-/

Damon went back to his room after the long day, and long evening, with the many families gathered together, and he changed into his pajamas tiredly. His mother came to his room to tuck him in and she seemed to be in surprisingly good spirits. He smiled at her, yawning and letting her tuck him in, without any complaint.

She smoothed hair back from his forehead and said "I'm going to be home a lot more this year, Damon. That'll be nice, won't it?"

He agreed. It would be nice. He just wished that she hadn't found something else to bother her. Ever since her meeting with that man, she had been distant, thoughtful, dark in spirits, although this time their father shared her moods. He knew they were trying to make it better, because the last year was so hard on them all, but it was still worrying.

"Next year," she said, smiling, "it's Cora's turn, and then it'll just be you and Ourania. That'll be something, won't it?"

Damon nodded. Secretly, he was glad it was only a year. He loved his twin, but he didn't like the idea of her as his only companion. Her boisterous energy was exhausting to him.

"You'll be home then, too, right?" he asked, touching her warm fingers. "You won't spend as much time at work again until we're away at school?"

"Well, that's certainly the plan," she said, tentatively.

He understood. Her work could be unpredictable, and she could never be too careful with her promises. If something came up, she didn't want to feel she was breaking a promise to her children by having to spend more time at work, and the last thing Damon wanted was to put her in that position. He just thanked her and watched her go, feeling a sleepy sense of peace.

 **A/N: This chapter is dedicated to reader** _ **Misheru08.**_ **So, Harry and Kitty are well past the truce now, and Sirius decides that Harry's not a threat to his daughter's honor.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were Sirius, and your godson (young though they are) had crossed multiple counties in the middle of the night to chat with your daughter…would you have been as lenient/understanding/forgiving? And not told his mum?**

 **Q &A: **

**Q: I can't wait for harryxkitty moments! (** _ **Juliette Potter Weasley**_ **)**

 **A: Okay, I'll admit, this isn't really a question, but I'M GOING TO TREAT IT LIKE ONE. :D**

 **As you can see, there's already some tender moments between the two, but he's just turned thirteen, and she's twelve. That's not to say they couldn't "date," but as far as sensual moments, those are going to be a bit. It'll grow. Other things will happen in the meantime, plotwise, that will prepare them both for their relationship, and for the final and greatest plotline.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	46. Trials

Draco settled himself at the Slytherin table, he felt with remarkable dignity. Blaise greeted Adrasteia politely when she sat with them, her nose turned up slightly and her back almost painfully straight. Draco let his eyes cross the room, seeing Catherine Black greeting the Cotton girl – who looked painfully chipper – and Harry, Neville, and the Weasley boy saying hello to the Weasley girl and her friend, Creevey.

"It _would_ be a horribly wet night," Adrasteia said, frowning up at the ceiling. "It's times like this that I hate the charmed ceiling."

"I rather like the rain," Blaise said coolly.

Draco wondered what was up with him, but he didn't say anything. Professor McGonagall was conferring with Dumbledore in the front of the room, and that meant the first years were going to be paraded out any time now.

As soon as she left, setting the Sorting Hat on the stool, Blaise leaned over the table and said, "Daphne mentioned on the platform that her little sister is starting this year."

"Astoria," Adrasteia said cheerfully. "She's terribly sweet. I'm sure she'll be a Slytherin."

Blaise blinked at Adrasteia for a moment before turning back to Draco, looking mildly irritated.

The first years followed McGonagall in a long train, and Draco let his eyes skim over them lazily. It wasn't hard to pick out Astoria Greengrass. She looked much like her sister, with dark brown hair and wide, gray eyes. Her heart-shaped face was small and delicate, and he supposed someday she might even be considered beautiful, but she was a little young to be thought beautiful now. She still had that attractive, doll-like quality of youth that Adrasteia never had, for lack of sweet expression.

Draco wondered if her mother ever told her that she should try to be more sweet, or if Madam Lestrange would rather have a beautiful, self-assured pureblood daughter than a sweet, doll-like child. Sacrifices, he supposed, were made every day.

The whole school waited in polite silence while the hat gathered itself to sing, and then during the song. It had changed very little (except in meter) since Draco had joined Hogwarts, and he knew well enough what was important about each of the Houses. Since Astoria Greengrass, seemingly the only person of interest in this long year of students, was almost certain to be Sorted into Slytherin, it seemed quite pointless to strain his attention on the Sorting.

He sat back slightly as the song began, and looked at the hat with what he hoped was a thoughtful expression as he tried to run through the Goblin Rebellions in his mind. Any advantage would be welcome, and no doubt Hermione Granger was wasting energy on listening to the drivel, and he was getting a head start on the school year, letting the rhythm of the song focus the rhythm of his list as he ran it through in his mind, steadily, flawlessly, almost rapidly.

Yes, this would be his year, he thought with a small smile. This year he would win.

/-/

Hermione listened with rapt attention, although the others around her were not interested, to the Sorting.

"Derek, Troy!"

A small boy made his way up to the front, and he sat down on the stool with a sour expression, looking around as though the slightest thing might startle him.

The Hat took some time for this, but then he said, "SLYTHERIN!"

Troy was welcomed over to the Slytherin table. He was welcomed with a great amount of clapping and cheering, as usual, and when the Hall had settled down again, Professor McGonagall called out the second name.

"Greengrass, Astoria!"

A small, doll-like girl walked to the front of the room with quiet confidence, and she sat very primly on the stool, blinking out at the crowd as though she couldn't see any of them.

Hermione saw Astoria's sister across the way, holding her breath anxiously.

/-/

Sirius didn't have to hear the Hat cry "SLYTHERIN!" to know that Astoria Greengrass would be Sorted there. He supposed exceptions existed in every family (like his own case), but from what he had observed of the girl in her childhood, she was like a quieter version of her elder sister. Delia would be pleased for her niece, in any regard, and Adrasteia was positively glowing with pride.

"Gulch, Josiah!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius mostly zoned out of the Sorting after that point, noting that a "Scamander, Terrence" was Sorted to Gryffindor, as was Alicia Spinnet's younger sister, Winona. The Whisp twins, great-nephews of the author of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , were separated, one to Hufflepuff and the other to Slytherin. Blaise Zabini's cousin, Trudy, was Sorted to Ravenclaw, as was the granddaughter of the joke-maker, one Linnette Zonko.

When "Zunino, Lyndon" was Sorted into Ravenclaw to end the whole affair, the Hat was removed and Dumbledore stood, saying a few words of nonsense to summon the food.

As usual, first year students were awed by the display, and Sirius smiled to himself as he put a few chicken wings on his plate.

"That was pleasant," Remus said, rubbing his hands together as he examined the food choices. "No massive shocks or surprises, no family of any of my friends."

"Technically," Severus said dryly, "Miss Greengrass is in Sirius's family."

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "She's my wife's half-brother's wife's niece. We're probably related closer if you went by my blood, but even that's a stretch. If you were to pull that, I'd be related to half the students every year."

Severus quirked an eyebrow as if to question why they wouldn't just assume that, and Remus shook his head, laughing.

"Did Kitty write to Ryana at all this summer?" Remus asked politely as he looked out at the students.

Sirius shrugged and said, "I don't really think so. I didn't ask."

Remus hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing. Sirius knew what he was pointing out, however. Catherine let Ryana Cotton dote on her admiringly without really doing much to return the token of friendship. Perhaps, if the relationship started to show signs of toxicity, he would have a word with his daughter about the matter, but he didn't want to. He'd never really wanted to be friends with Peter, but James said it was the right thing to do, and so he'd accepted him without another thought back, and that hadn't turned out well.

Not that Sirius thought Ryana Cotton was likely to betray all her friends to a Dark Wizard, being a Hufflepuff and everything. But you just never knew, he thought, glancing at the two girls talking with their mouths full.

No, he'd keep an eye on it, but he wasn't going to force her to be closer to the girl.

/-/

After the feast, Blaise tiredly listened to Professor Dumbledore's speech, wishing it would be over so he could go to bed. There was no reason to have speeches after pudding. No one could be listening. No one needed to hear any of the things they were going to say, the way they said them every year.

"Mr. Kettleburn," Professor Dumbledore said, "has retired this year, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs."

At this, Blaise frowned and exchanged a glance with Draco before counting the people at the Head Table. Sure enough, there was one fewer this year, but no unfamiliar faces.

"Taking on the teaching of Care of Magical Creatures," Dumbledore continued, "as well as his other duties, will be Rubeus Hagrid. I'm sure we will all welcome his knowledge and experience in the subject."

Hagrid waved instead of standing, as everyone could already see him quite clearly. The Gryffindors and some of the Hufflepuffs clapped vigorously for him, and Blaise raised his eyebrows at Draco, who had signed up for that course. He could see his friend's expression melt to annoyance at this announcement, and Blaise felt quite pleased he hadn't bothered with it.

"Him?" Adrasteia hissed. "I don't think I'll be signing up for that class, then."

"I doubt you would have anyway," Blaise said softly, sternly. "It would have almost certainly resulted in dirt under your fingernails, and Merlin knows we can't have that."

She gave him a puzzled look, but Blaise ignored her. He listened to the rest of the message silently, bored, and hoping she got the hint sooner rather than later.

/-/

It took a week for Ginny to tell Colin what she was pondering, but when she finally did, he was as supportive as he could possibly be.

"I think that's a great idea, going to Quidditch trials!" he said, beaming at her. "I mean, they can always use reserves, can't they? And you know, Rhea told me she was thinking of trying for Chaser. Is she any good, do you think?"

Ginny conceded that Rhea was a very good flier, which Colin supposed she ought to know, as they were cousins. He felt sorry that Ginny didn't have any openings, where Rhea did, but he supposed she might get some games as a reserve.

/-/

Fabian watched his wife as she poured a glass of water after the children had gone outside to play. It was one of those rare days off, although he was covering for Gideon for a few hours that evening. He told himself that it was fine, that he wouldn't mind getting some extra work hours, a bit of extra cash. But he hated being apart from Dorcas lately, and the kids seemed to be growing so quickly, he wondered where all the time had gone.

"D'you think Sirius knows what he's doing?" Fabian asked. "With this historian, I mean."

"I'm not sure Sirius ever really knows what he's doing," Dorcas said, shrugging. "But he's the best person I know at making it up as he goes along."

/-/

Harry showed up at the Quidditch pitch for the traditional trials, not that Gryffindor ever needed to take on new players while he'd been there, but there was always the possibility of reserves. He was stunned to see Catherine lingering at the entrance to the pitch, however, and he paused, wondering what she could be doing there. She raised her eyebrows at him playfully and said, "Don't worry, I'm not spying for the Hufflepuff team. Diggory and I aren't plotting your downfall. Ginny's trying for reserve."

"Oh," he said, immediately feeling stupid that he hadn't been able to think of something cleverer than that. "Right."

This seemed to amuse her, and she took a few steps closer, tossing that glossy hair over her shoulder playfully.

"Maybe she'll take your spot," she teased. "Rhea says she's quite good. Rhea just made the Ravenclaw team, you know. Chaser."

"That's good for her," he said, weakly. What was wrong with him? Maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

That had to be it.

Catherine just laughed, waved over her shoulders, and sauntered up into the stands after her friends.

"Harry!" he heard Oliver Wood screech. "It's time to start! Why aren't you on your broom?"

Harry sighed, going to follow his taskmaster, not that he was going to have to do any serious work. Oliver already knew what Harry was capable of, and no one was after his job. Ginny lined up, he saw, to try to be a reserve Chaser. Catherine had just been trying to get a rise out of him.

She was in the stands, he noticed as he mounted his broom, sitting with Rhea and Luna and Colin Creevey, gossiping merrily about something. She winked at him as she spotted him looking at her, and he looked away, maybe took quickly, feeling the back of his neck go hot. That happened sometimes when she winked, lately, although he couldn't figure out why. She'd been winking for years, and he'd never had any sort of reaction like this.

Maybe he'd developed an allergy to her winking. That sort of thing happened. Probably.

He focused his attention on the trials, and he had to admit, Rhea wasn't wrong. Ginny was an excellent flier, graceful and quick, with an instinct for the Quaffle. She dodged well (although he suspected it was a bit odd for her brothers to try to knock her off her broom), and she nearly got a couple of goals on Oliver, who was easily the best Keeper at the school for a long time. She worked well with Alicia, Katie, and Angelina, and Harry thought that if something were to happen to one of them, she'd be a good, quality replacement.

Oliver seemed to think the same, and when the team was lingering after the rest of the stands had cleared out, he asked Harry what he knew about Ginny as a reliable person.

"Well, her friends rely on her," he said, shrugging. "She's highly capable, intentional. Erm…I reckon she's supposed to be pretty clever."

"Yeah, she is," George said, grinning. "Even when she was little, we didn't want to cross her. I mean, she was always our baby sister."

"But she could be scary," Fred said with a nod.

This seemed to please Oliver, who scribbled something on his clipboard with a happy grin.

/-/

Delia watched her husband walk through the back garden, almost pacing as he wound through the gardens anxiously, thinking over a letter from Sirius Black. She knew that if it ever came back to her, Rabastan would never forgive her should things turn out poorly. And if things turned out as poorly as he seemed to think, perhaps she wouldn't forgive herself. After all, Delia was rather fond of Cara and her children. Sirius was charming, but it was hard to trust him after his history.

With a slightly nervous hand, Delia quickly penned a note.

 _Dear Mr. Barker,_

 _We haven't met, but you wrote to my husband about matters concerning the war. I understand you are writing a history of the events surrounding the Dark Lord's death. I know very little of it myself, but my understanding is that the person you want to talk to about the matter is my sister-in-law, Madam Cara Black. She is shy and difficult to gain the confidence of, which is probably why she has yet to go on public record, but it is something I thought you ought to know._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Madam Lestrange_

/-/

Harry watched Catherine squeal and hug Ginny when Oliver told Ginny the good news at lunch. It was nice that she was so pleased for her friend, he thought, looking down at his sandwich thoughtfully. Ron was more jealous than pleased. Neville was pleased, but he was understated. It was nice that he had friends who were supportive, but it wasn't the same as…as Catherine.

He liked to think she was pleased for him, but it was different, too. He would congratulate Ginny later, he told himself, before looking down at his sandwich again, still not having taken a bite out of it. She'd earned congratulations.

/-/

Ernie and Justin were talking over an essay when Justin said, "What are we going to do for Hogsmeade?"

Ernie hadn't really given it much thought. He'd assumed they'd go with Hannah and Susan, since they did almost everything with Hannah and Susan, and maybe they'd get sweets, go the Three Broomsticks, check out the post office, which was supposed to be pretty fantastic.

"Well, Honeydukes, I guess, to start," Ernie said, scratching his chin. "Three Broomsticks for lunch, obviously. Maybe ask the girls what they want to do."

Just shrugged and nodded. Obviously, he didn't have a problem going with the girls, so as far as Ernie was concerned, all was decided.

/-/

Ginny was sitting in a corner of the common room after dinner, reading alone. Harry sat down across from her and was startled when her neck turned bright red. He thought it was a bit cold in the room, but maybe her jumper was thick?

"Erm, I wanted to say congratulations," he said, smiling at her. "You flew really well today. I mean, obviously, I hope no one gets injured or ill or anything, but I'm sure you'll do well, when you get a match."

"If," she corrected, almost in a mutter.

"Well, yeah," he said, shrugging. "But I assume you'll play when, like, Alicia and Angelina graduate. We'll need Chasers then."

She nodded and muttered something, perhaps not realizing this, or maybe not thinking it was important, what would happen in two years' time.

"And," he added, wanting to make her feel more comfortable, "we'll definitely need some support during practices. Wood can be a bit hard on us, and having someone fresh to push us all the harder is bound to get improvement."

Ginny just nodded, her ears now turning red, and he decided that whatever he was doing (presumably just being friendly) wasn't helping, so he said goodnight and went upstairs.

"I think your sister was having a fit or something," he said to Ron, frowning. "She turned into a tomato when I was trying to compliment her on trials."

"Did she?" Ron said, frowning. "Probably because she fancies you."

Harry dropped his glasses, which he'd been pulling off for the night, and he scrambled to pick them up.

"She doesn't," he said, almost as if the idea were like adding two and two and getting five. To his mind, they seemed equally impossible.

"She does," Neville said, pulling off his shoes. "She's had a crush on you since last fall. I reckon it's when she saw you play Quidditch the first time. Even Kitty says you're…what did she say? Majestic?"

Harry figured it had to be hot in the castle, because his own neck appeared to be burning. He dismissed the bantering of his friends immediately as impossibilities. Mostly, he couldn't imagine Catherine ever using such a word, much less about him. Still, every time he tried to imagine her saying it, he felt his neck go hot all over again.

 **A/N: So, Ginny fancies Harry, Kitty's causing some unforeseen physical reactions in Harry, and Delia's taking matters into her own hands.**

 **Review Prompt: What's more interesting/exciting, the duo feuding or the duo friendly?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Please don't pair Caroline with any of her cousins. (** _ **Asma20**_ **)**

 **A: Okay, not exactly a question, but definitely something to be addressed. There will be no marriage of cousins in this story. There will be no intermarriage of Caroline with either Brontes or Aeson. Brontes would find her tiring, anyway, and if she and Aeson married, they'd probably kill each other.**

 **Once Caro goes to school, you'll have ABSOLUTELY no trouble figuring out whom she'll be paired with, so don't stress too much. By the end of the Sorting ceremony, you'll likely all have it figured.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	47. To Completion

Sirius rubbed his hands together as he woke up on Halloween morning. First Hogsmeade trip, but he and Severus weren't chaperoning it. They'd gotten permission from Albus to sit this one out, as they had to meet with this Barker chap and get the interviews over with. Barker had agreed to meet at Selwyn Manor, which was really the safest place Sirius could think of. All the skeletons were buried at Grimmauld Place and Lestrange Manor, so there was nothing untoward for Barker to find on the property, and there were no students or family members around to overhear something they shouldn't.

Severus would leave with Sirius after breakfast, and Sirius was already shaking. He needed to take time to calm himself, to empty his thoughts as he had done so many times during the war. He'd grown quite passable at controlling his mind and emotions while spying, nearly as good as Severus, but he'd given it up, mostly, after the war. Secrecy wasn't in his nature, and he found it exhausting to constantly wear a mask. It suited Severus, but Sirius hated it.

He looked in the mirror after dressing and taking some time going through exercises to calm and clear his mind, and he nearly shivered at the emptiness behind his own eyes. The perfectly neutral pureblooded expression he'd had to wear more times than he could count.

He wished he didn't have to wear it to breakfast. He never wanted Catherine to see him like this, but if he didn't put it on now, he might lose it when he left for Selwyn Manor, and that would yield worse results.

Sirius went down to breakfast as if in a daze, and he sighted Severus, knowing immediately that Severus could see the change in him. Skimming over the surface of his coolness, Sirius could feel hatred of the approving nod Severus gave him in acknowledgement of the control over his mind.

But it was necessary. It was good. It was important for protecting Cara and the children, and so he would do it every day if he had to, until they could figure out how to rid themselves of Barker.

Breakfast was a calm affair. Catherine was mercifully too preoccupied with gossiping and planning with her friends to notice any change in him. Remus leaned over to make a comment, but cut himself off when Severus shook his head sharply.

They couldn't risk Sirius losing hold of himself because he was out of practice. What so many years living in peace could do to one's psyche, he though with just a quiver of bitterness through his coolness. A small piece of him, even in this state, ached to spend the day having tea and playing chess with his daughter, enjoying a bit of time with her before she went off to Hogsmeade with the other students next year, too old to be interested in her doting father. He wanted to properly enjoy her childhood.

"It's time," Severus said softly, and Sirius was glad he'd taken the time to gather himself, or his stomach would have dropped at those words.

/-/

Ron dragged Harry and Neville through the streets of Hogsmeade, Hermione trailing behind them, talking about the upcoming Quidditch match. The first match of the season, this year, would be against Hufflepuff, and Ron fancied Gryffindor's chances.

"You clobbered them last year," he said eagerly. "The only thing they've got worth anything his Diggory, and you could outplay him any day."

Harry shrugged as though he wasn't so sure, but Ron disregarded the shrug. Harry was just modest. Ron pulled the group into Honeydukes, wishing he could buy the whole store, but knowing he was limited financially. He was glad he'd saved up for this day, but he knew he'd have to refrain from buying too much if he wanted some spending money for the next trip.

"Wow," Neville said, pointing to the chocoballs. "Those look pretty good."

"That's disgusting," Hermione said, pointing at the novelty shelf, with blood lollies, Acid Pops, and Cockroach Cluster. Ron had to admit, he wasn't particularly fond of any of those.

"Who eats blood flavored candies?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Well, vampires, obviously," Hermione said.

/-/

Sirius felt mild nausea as he let Severus into the manor, looking around at the grand entryway as though not really seeing it.

"A sitting room?" Severus asked. "Study?"

"No," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Conservatory. I want him so dazzled with wealth he doesn't know where to look."

Severus's lips curled into an unfeeling smile that made Sirius's blood go cold, and he gestured for Severus to show himself in to the conservatory. He wanted to wait, linger, make this man wait a bit, but not too long. Just long enough to know his place.

He stood at the stairwell, recalling with perfect clarity the sight of Cara walking up those stairs in her wedding dress after their reception. It had been a terrifying time, and she'd still been so innocent, despite everything. Even now, he mused, she managed to maintain a kind of innocence, and he desperately wanted her to keep that. He wanted it to be safe for her to keep that.

Sirius felt the burn of the hand of a stranger on the wards, and he swallowed back the burn, looking up the stairs to a large painted portrait of Cara's mother, shortly after marrying. She'd been beautiful, innocent-looking, much like her daughter but fairer. Sirius often wondered if she'd known then, posing for this portrait, what she would be subjected to. He wondered if Rabastan's father had seen her sweet innocence and wanted her because she was beautiful, or wanted her because she was something he could ruin.

That monster of a man, he wouldn't be surprised either way.

Again, that feeling of burning. He smirked. Mr. Barker, it seemed, was an impatient man. Sirius adjusted his posture to be commanding and imposing, and he faced his front door, letting out a breath and feeling the emotions he'd just been experiencing leaking out from him with comfort.

He opened the door and walked slowly, almost sauntered up the walkway, making mental notes about menial things that Dobby would have to do in the garden before Sirius came back for the summer with his family. Menial issues were good for keeping himself cool for this meeting, and this house always reminded him of small things to be done, like Narcissa's voice was in the back of his head giving him a list of considerations to be "proper" for company.

The man in question was standing at the gates, smiling, with dark hair gelled off his face and an honest expression that Sirius wanted to trust, but knew better than to read anything into. He'd seen many a villain with an honest face. Otherwise, the man was average, just a little bit too pudgy to be trim, with surprisingly thin lips.

"Mr. Barker," Sirius said, opening the gates casually.

"Mr. Black," Barker said, smiling and holding out his hand, which Sirius shook shortly. "I take it Mr. Snape is inside?"

"Of course."

He closed the gate, and led Barker to the conservatory.

/-/

Luna spread out the sweets, which the girls had spread between them on Professor Lupin's office floor. He was graciously allowing them to use his office while he did his marking, if they weren't too loud. Luna was trying to find a simple bar of Honeyduke's Best, which was always difficult with Catherine around.

"Hey, what are you doing for Christmas?" she asked. "Dad said I could invite a friend, but if any of you already have plans, that'll help make the choice."

"The Potters are coming again," Catherine said.

"Ginny, why don't you go?" Rhea said.

It wasn't an insult, Luna knew. Rhea was looking forward to more time with her mother after the strain of the previous year, and the two Ravenclaws saw each other frequently, anyway.

Ginny agreed, and said she'd write her mother for permission that evening.

/-/

Sirius sat down with Severus, and he offered Barker something to drink. Barker refused, but without asking, Sirius poured a firewhiskey for himself and Severus. Whether Severus actually wanted the beverage, Sirius knew he would drink. This was all about appearances, and no one understood playing a role better than this pair of men.

"I understand you have some questions for us, Mr. Barker," Severus said, relaxing in his chair. Barker seemed slightly uncomfortable in the very fancy Victorian chair he'd been directed into, but he was still smiling.

"Indeed, I do," Barker said happily. "Mr. Black, this house is your wife's, is it not?"

"She inherited it, yes," Sirius said, after a long sip of his firewhiskey. "But everything we own, we own jointly. The goblins are less…old-fashioned than some wizards. They are perfectly willing to allow a husband and wife to share equally in their wealth."

"I imagine it makes little difference to their affairs," Severus said, standing and crossing to a bookshelf. "Did I give you back the collection of plant theses you loaned me?"

He'd given it back a year ago, but Sirius simply gave an affirmative and turned his attention to the shelf, away from Barker, to let the historian know how he rated in their world.

/-/

Caroline felt a tingling in her fingertips she always got when she found out something wonderful by breaking the rules. There was a map, she learned, that her father and his friends made, something that it seemed, from his old letters, had been confiscated. With any luck, it was still with confiscated goods at the castle.

With her very sweetest voice, Caroline went to her mother.

"Mummy, can I write a letter to Kitty?"

"Of course, Caro," her mother said, not looking up from her book. "Jason can help you send it."

It was all too perfect.

/-/

"Now, I'm a little sticky on the timeline on one point," Barker said after about half an hour of asking minute questions that didn't seem to matter, about social dynamics and who was where when. "When Voldemort was killed, was your wife pregnant with your daughter at the time?"

Sirius felt slightly sick to his stomach as he glanced at Severus, who stared back blankly. How on earth would Barker know to ask that question? Did he ask it without realizing what he was saying? Did he have any idea how much he was asking?

With a sigh, Sirius said, "I suppose she might have been. We did learn she was pregnant around that time. I don't know, Severus, your memory is better than mine. Would she have been pregnant with Kitty by then?"

"Yes, probably, but not by much," Severus said. "Of course, that could have been why she was feeling poorly."

Sirius hummed as though this thought had never occurred to him, and Barker scribbled notes rapidly on his notepad.

"So, she would have been pregnant at the time," he said, "and the Potters were giving birth to their son, and the Longbottoms had given birth to their son the night before."

Sirius closed his eyes and nodded that this was correct. He didn't want to talk about children. This was getting far too close to things that mattered.

"And your wife, Mr. Black, was where when Voldemort was killed?"

"She'd already gone home," he said, "to our London home. She was asleep when I arrived back after Ministry questioning. She had intended to go to sleep straight away."

It was a lie, but he'd told it so many times for so many years that it felt like a truth, as much as the truth did. Some days, even more than the truth.

"Does that sound right to you, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes."

Severus had a way of shutting down a question without being rude, but letting the other party know with absolute certainty that the line was shut down. Barker, if he was bothered by this, showed nothing. He simply smiled pleasantly back at the pair and nodded.

"Mr. Black, this happened at your brother-in-law's home."

"Legally speaking, he is not my brother-in-law," Sirius said, tilting his head. "And at the time, it was not his home. It was his brother's home. The only laws that recognize Rabastan and Cara as siblings are ancient laws built around bloodlines, not birth certificates."

Barker didn't seem to care, and wrote nothing down to this effect. This was odd, because many people had taken extreme interest in this correction, over the years.

"Yes, quite. Does it strike you as odd that Bellatrix Lestrange would attack the Dark Lord in her husband's home?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, wasn't she devoted to him?"

"My cousin was insane," Sirius said calmly. "That's well-documented, as I'm sure you know. She was jealous of his attentions, and any threat to her place at his side drove her to madness."

"I can understand her killing a threat to that attention," Barker said nodding, narrowing his eyes. "But to kill the source of that attention?"

Sirius ached to vomit, and ached for a cigarette, and ached to wipe Barker's memory. This man was far too intelligent.

/-/

Ourania took a sweet from her mother and popped it in her mouth immediately, ignoring that warning from her mother that too many sweets would make her sick. It had never happened before, so Ourania didn't see why it should begin now.

"Mum, are we going to get something lovely for Rhea for Christmas?" she asked, watching her mother stir carrots into the pie for dinner when their father got home.

"Like what, love?"

"She likes ham."

Ourania's mother quirked an eyebrow thoughtfully. They always did turkey for Christmas, but Rhea had never liked poultry much. She never complained, of course, because Rhea didn't have it in her to complain, but everyone knew she didn't really like it.

"You know, that's a pretty good idea," Ourania's mother said. "I don't know why we haven't thought of it before. I'll talk to your father."

/-/

Sirius was anxious enough from all the questions and their difficulty to weasel out of, but then Barker said, "Oh, I was wondering, when do you think your wife would be available for questioning, Mr. Black?"

Severus's nose twitched slightly, which was the only sign given between the two men that there was anything untoward in this commentary.

"Why?" Sirius asked, trying to copy Severus's tone, but not quite making it.

Again, nothing seemed to have any impact on Mr. Barker.

"Well, she was present that night," Barker said, as though this made it all so obvious. "Her family and friends were intimately involved. And understand how her witness testimony would be invaluable to fully understanding the event."

Sirius knew that if he gave excuses for why his wife would be unable to answer questions it would only encourage him to seek her out. But he had to say something.

"I don't know that she will be, Mr. Barker. If she becomes available, we'll be in touch."

Barker seemed to teeter in place as though trying to decide whether this would be suitable, as if he really had a choice. Finally, deciding something, he nodded and said, "Yes, I'll show myself out then, gentlemen."

Without another word, Barker left them alone. Sirius and Severus lingered for a moment. Severus stood and checked the house to be sure that Barker had left, and when he came back and said that he was gone, Sirius pulled out his cigarettes and opened a window.

"Cara would be furious if she knew you were doing that in here," Severus said, although he sounded mostly bored by the event.

"I really don't care," Sirius said, frowning, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag from it that took nearly a full minute. He let out the breath and said, "He's getting close, Severus. He's getting dangerously bloody close, and I don't know what else there is to do. What if he contacts her anyway?"

"He might," Severus said mildly.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Sirius cried, waving his cigarette wildly. "He asked about when Cat got pregnant, for Merlin's sake! How…why would he ask that if he didn't know something he wasn't supposed to know?"

Severus said nothing, watching Sirius smoke, and smoke, and smoke, pacing the room.

"We have to do something," he said, finally looking up from his cigarette. "Severus, we have to have a plan."

"Yes, that's obvious," Severus said, standing. "If he contacts Cara, she knows what to say. If it goes poorly, then we can pay him a visit. If it comes to that, I have no qualms following your lead on whatever you think reasonable. But to react to this, as our only evidence that he knows more than he should, it would signal that he's on the right track. If he has nothing, we don't want to give him something."

Sirius hummed, looking out at the back garden. Would that be enough? To destabilize Cara would potentially make it all for naught.

"She's not a weakling, Sirius," Severus said softly. "I know you worry about her, and I know you fear that she's still that weak child found in the forest, but she fought a war. She did dangerous work, and she did it well. She's raised three…difficult children. She's a strong woman. She'll bounce back."

"What makes you think I'm worried?" Sirius said, his nostrils flared. Severus hadn't read his mind; he knew that much.

"That is the first time I have ever seen you smoke one of those things to completion."

Sirius looked down at his hand, and sure enough only the butt of the cigarette was still between his fingers, small and sad in his hand. He let it fall to his palm, where it appeared even smaller.

 **A/N: So, Barker's seen Sev and Sirius, plots are afoot, and Caroline's been snooping in her father's things.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were Sirius, what would be your preferred method for handling this situation?**

 **Q &A: If y'all don't start asking questions, I'm going to replace this section with translations of ancient poetry. Questions please! :D**

 **-C**


	48. Willow

Remus and Sirius walked to the Quidditch pitch together in the torrential wind and rain. They'd gone to see James play in many matches like this one. Still, it never got any easier to step out into the icy weather.

"How were we ever young enough to do this?" he asked. "It's remarkable, how the young people function."

"Do they?" Sirius cried over the wind, laughing as some of the icy rain pelted his face. "C'mon, Moony. We'll be warmer at the top. Heat rises!"

"That's not how that works!" Remus cried back, but if Sirius heard him, he gave no sign. He was already hurrying up the stairs into the teacher's section of the stand. When they sat in the stand and Remus hugged his scarf about his face, the pair of them began scanning the pitch for signs of the players.

Quidditch never got cancelled, but that didn't mean they weren't nervous for Harry. They'd never really been nervous for James, mostly because when they were teenagers it never occurred to any of them that they weren't invincible. But especially after Harry and Catherine nearly being eaten by rampaging Acromantulas, they were all a little more cognizant of mortality.

"This is madness," Sirius cried.

Remus had to agree. When Lee Jordan sat down about six seats away from them, crying out the commentary, they couldn't hear him. Remus supposed that Sirius was secretly grateful Catherine hadn't tried for the Hufflepuff team in this moment, because it was times like this that reminded them how dangerous Quidditch could be. How many times had James nearly died playing the game?

It was difficult to see the match through the torrential downpour, but Remus and Sirius had better eyesight than most. They were able to make out Harry, hovering over the game, trying to find the Snitch. Remus didn't begrudge Harry this task, when he was probably having a hard enough time finding his own fingers. It was a good thing, really, that Catherine and Jason had thought to get him those prescription goggles, which would repel the water from charms put on them by the shop. In a match like this, it would be a godsend.

Remus watched anxiously, even through a very rare time-out as Oliver Wood seemed to be yelling something at his side. Not that he was angry at them, mind. It was likely the only way they could hear him over the howling of the wind.

"Harry'll get it soon," Sirius said, with his painful optimism. "Then we can all go back inside!"

"Can't you hope your daughter's team gets a win?" Remus asked.

"What?"

Remus waved his hand to say that it wasn't important, and it looked like the players were taking to their brooms again. Katie Bell was nearly knocked over from a gust of wind before she could kick off, but she managed to get into the air. Remus narrowed his eyes to see that Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, was sticking closely to Harry, probably realizing that Harry's goggles were a huge advantage in this weather.

That bothered Remus, who sat forward on the chair, and when he heard the first peel of thunder he shivered.

It took perhaps ten minutes for him to grow nervous that the lightening was close enough to be a real concern, but he was gripping the edge of the seat, chewing absently on his bottom lip.

He couldn't see the Bludger, not in the pouring rain. He didn't realize it was there until Harry and Cedric darted off for the Snitch at full speed. They were closing in on the Snitch, Harry seeming to just slightly edge Cedric.

And then the Bludger hit, out of the blue, and Remus and Sirius both leapt to their feet as Harry fell from his broom and Cedric's hand closed around the little golden ball.

/-/

Lily was at work when James sent her a message that Harry was injured in the match. She read over the note that said that Harry had been hit by a Bludger, that he was still unconscious and would have to spend a couple of nights in the infirmary, but that he would be fine.

She knew the real reason he'd written, though, as soon as she saw that Harry was injured. The very end of the note said that his broom had been smashed up irreparably, tossed by the wind into the Whomping Willow. There was nothing to be done for it. She sighed, thinking how they'd only just gotten that broom for him a couple of years ago, and how it was still in such great nick.

James didn't have to say what broom he thought they ought to get Harry when he suggested they buy him a new one. She knew James well enough. They were going to have to get their son one of those Firebolts. Only the best. She closed her eyes and winced at the call she was going to have to make to inquire about the price. Of course they could afford it, but the sort of precedent it set….

Lily wasn't one for spoiling their son, and she supposed that in not having spoilt him previously, perhaps they could do this one thing that would mean so much to Harry.

/-/

Hermione frowned, standing on the outskirts of the infirmary, looking in at the teammates and teachers and other Gryffindors huddled around Harry as he was just coming to consciousness. He looked around like he was trying to find someone, but he relaxed slightly after a moment and said, "The match?"

The others looked around at each other and her heart hurt as his father explained to him that Diggory had already caught the Snitch before he realized Harry had been injured. Harry was disappointed, but when his father then explained that his broom was no more, Harry was devastated. Hermione turned away, frowning, wishing she could make it better, so that it never happened. It was like losing a pet, and as far as she could tell, Harry had never suffered a loss before.

/-/

Sitting down with James and Sirius, Remus poured out the hot water for cocoa and passed the cups to his best friends.

"He's conscious," Sirius said bracingly. "That's a big thing, you know. We'd have more to worry about if he hadn't opened his eyes until tomorrow."

"Yeah," James said, scratching his cheek. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. I just can't imagine the agony he's in. Losing a broom like that."

Remus took a drink of his cocoa to avoid laughing. It really wasn't a laughing matter, but it would be James to be more worried about the broom than the well-being of his son.

/-/

Catherine had tried to go to the Hufflepuff party and listen to Ryana go on and on about all the things they'd done well – as if she could have seen any of it – while older students got drunk.

Instead, she snuck out to the infirmary, waiting until Madam Pomfrey closed it for visitors and went to her own quarters for the night to creep into the room.

Harry was still awake, and he saw her entering. He tried to sit up as she entered, and he groaned slightly. Catherine frowned, sitting down beside him, resisting the urge to laugh at his struggle. She didn't like seeing him in pain, but she did enjoy watching him try to _not_ be in pain for her benefit.

"Come to gloat?" he asked, frowning at her. They must have told him about his broom. "Shouldn't you be at a party or something? Or were you lot not even prepared to win?"

Catherine ignored the bitterness in his tone. She knew he didn't really hate her. He was just frustrated with his situation. They both knew it wasn't her fault.

"There's a party," she said, before nibbling gently on the inner part of her lower lip. She wanted to decide what to say, knowing the mood he was in. "I came here instead."

Harry frowned suspiciously and said, "Why?"

"Because it wouldn't be any fun, knowing you were in here."

He shifted slightly and winced, but she knew he felt guilty for how he'd spoken to her. Catherine found she didn't mind, smoothing part of his sheet. She chewed on her lip again and said, "I got a letter from Caro."

"Yeah?"

"She's been snooping around Daddy's things." His lips tightened in an amused expression like he was trying to conceal it. "She found some of his old letters with your dad and Uncle Remus. Apparently our parents made a map when they were at school. Of the whole school. Like, everything. And it was confiscated when they were in their seventh year."

Harry tried to sit up again, and winced.

"D'you reckon Filch still has it?"

Catherine nodded and said, "That's what Caro was saying. Really, I think he might, right? So I was wondering if you wanted to go in on the cause."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I'm listening."

"I want to borrow the Cloak," she said, "while you lot are at Hogsmeade. The twins have already promised me a distraction to get Filch away from his office during the hour before lunch, and if I have the Cloak, I reckon that should give me enough time to get in and find it."

Harry thought over her proposition, which she knew was asking a lot of him.

"What do I get out of it?" he asked softly. "I know you're not just going to hand me the map."

"Hardly," she said with a snort. "You've got an Invisibility Cloak. It's only fair I get the map since both of our fathers were involved in it."

He sighed and said, "Fair enough. As long as I get to borrow it when you figure out how to make it work."

"Well, you let me borrow the Cloak sometimes," she said pointedly, "and I let you borrow the map. Deal?"

After a moment of consideration, they shook on it.

/-/

Cora watched the rain fall on the windowpane to her bedroom, pressing one hand to the cool glass. It was remarkable, how large the drops looked. She wondered why sometimes the drops were so small, when other times they were so incredibly large.

"Hey, Cora?" her father asked, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

He came into her bedroom, raising an eyebrow at her curled up by her window, touching the windowpane. He smiled slightly and sat down beside her.

"You know," he said, "I never imagined so many of our children would turn out like your mum. Only Ourania really turned out like me at all, eh?"

Cora shrugged, but she knew what he meant.

"Did you want something?" she asked, smiling at him.

"Can I ask what you want for breakfast in the morning, pet?" he asked, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

She shrugged and looked back out at the rain.

"Toast and sausages again is fine," she said. "Why is the rain big sometimes and small other times?"

"I've no idea love," he said, kissing her forehead and laughed. "Ask your mum. She's loads smarter than I am."

/-/

Harry was visited by Neville first thing in the morning, and he told him to bring the Cloak in a bag at the soonest possible convenience. Neville, unlike Ron, never asked why Harry made certain demands of him, but followed instructions to the letter. Before lunchtime, Neville had a bag he claimed had clothes and a couple of books for homework, and in the bottom was the carefully folded cloak. Harry thanked him, and casually carried on a conversation until Neville had to go so he didn't miss the meal.

Digging around in the bag, he felt the cool, thin, slippery fabric and smiled to himself. Especially with Caroline digging through their parents' papers (although she really shouldn't, he mused), they were going to have a powerful bit of information in their hands. He only wished they didn't have to share it.

Still, fair was fair.

/-/

Delia felt that she should probably feel some kind of remorse for the note she wrote the historian, but she didn't. She should have felt bad about putting Cara into the fray of the matter without Rabastan's approval, or even more without the approval of the Blacks. But she didn't.

This Barker sent her a note of thanks for her information, and she burned it to keep her husband from stumbling across it. He didn't appear to be suspicious, so she felt mildly pleased, but the matter, she knew, was far from over.

/-/

She came down, as he requested, just after dinner, when his other friends were all getting ready for bed. Catherine sat down beside him, and he felt momentarily self-conscious. Her hair was so perfectly in-place, her clothes pressed, her eyes bright. How did he look to her, sprawled out in a cot, not having showered that morning? He nearly lifted a hand to try to smooth his hair, but he decided there was no way to do it without being obvious.

"I've got something for you," he said, slipping it out of his bag, glancing over his shoulder to be sure Madam Pomfrey was turning away while he passed it to Catherine.

"Oh, lovely, my favorite flavor," Catherine said in an easy deception, stuffing the Cloak quickly and deftly into her bookbag, behind her Potions text. She set the bag on the ground and relaxed slightly. They had to carry on a proper conversation for a little while, or Madam Pomfrey might get suspicious. "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged and said, "I'm a lot better now my collarbone's fully healed. Just wish there was something like this I could pour on my broomstick and make it work again."

Catherine nodded sadly, as if she could possibly understand. Still, he appreciated that she was even making the effort to understand his troubles. A year ago, they wouldn't have been able to have this conversation.

"I reckon Uncle James will get you a new broomstick over the holiday," she said, frowning slightly. "Maybe even a Nimbus 2001."

No, she really didn't understand. The bond he'd had with his broomstick was important. It was like the bond with a wand, or a pet, or a parent. She just didn't seem to understand. And Harry supposed that was alright, really, because he didn't understand her fascination with jewelry. To him it was just over-priced shiny stuff.

"So," he said, grimacing as he tried to sit up, "I suppose you ladies will keep yourselves suitably entertained next weekend?"

"You can count on it," Catherine said with a wink. "Uncle Remus let us spend the day in his office last month, you know. It was very sweet of him. I wanted to spend some time with Daddy, but apparently he had some business he had to tend to. I don't really begrudge Jason inheriting the titles and everything, you know. He'll be the one who has to deal with all the business."

"What'll you get?" he asked, stretching. "I mean, do you inherit anything?"

Catherine snorted and said, "Daddy was able to set up 'dowries' for Caro and me. Like selling off your daughters for marriage. He thinks it's a pretty safe bet that we'll marry, and if we don't, he knows Jason knows what we're supposed to get. I think, the way he has it now, Caro gets Selwyn Manor, Jason has Grimmauld Place and the cottage, and I get the villa we went to in Marseille, remember?"

Harry felt his neck go red slightly as he nodded, recalling with startling clarity how skinny and pale she was, stretched out on the beach in her bikini.

"So you'd move to France?" he asked, not liking that idea. "Would I have to go to France to see you?"

"My French is atrocious," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I suppose I really ought to practice, hadn't I? I imagine I'll live with whoever I marry, maybe buy a place of my own if I don't marry."

Although he couldn't imagine her being married to someone specific, Harry realized he couldn't fathom the idea of her never getting married. It just seemed wrong.

/-/

Pansy frowned, sitting with Daphne and her sister, Astoria. They were watching Catherine Black cross to the Gryffindor table, up to the Weasley twins, speaking to them in a bubbly, flirtatious manner. One of the twins kissed her hand and said something to her earnestly before she went back to the Hufflepuff table.

"Disgusting," Daphne said, shaking her head.

But of course, it became so much worse. Cedric Diggory, the painfully attractive Hufflepuff Seeker who won the match for Hufflepuff the other day, sat down beside her and the Cotton girl (who looked ready to wet herself from all the excitement) and began speaking to Black with a soft expression.

Pansy really didn't understand what it was that had so many boys talking to Catherine Black. Yes, she was pretty, rich, from a good pedigree. But Pansy felt she wasn't so different, if a little less rich. They had similar coloring, similar face shape…. It didn't make sense to Pansy that she should struggle to get a moment of Draco's attention when he would drop whatever he was doing if Catherine wanted something from him.

"I suppose some kind of accident could be arranged," Pansy said, more to herself than anything. She hadn't even realized she'd said it out loud until Astoria gave her a look like she was startled. Blaise, who was sitting slightly down the table, also looked at Pansy, and followed her gaze across the room to where Catherine Black was telling Diggory something, her dainty hand touching his arm as she said something with a tender expression.

Pansy caught Blaise's eye and he frowned as though he knew what she was thinking and didn't approve.

But she supposed it hardly mattered, as long as he didn't stand in her way.

 **A/N: So, Harry's down a broom, the Map is in their sights, and Catherine continues to be charming while being a spoiled toad. This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend,** _ **AvinaNox**_ **, whose recovery from her wisdom teeth being removed has given me sooooo many reviews. This bonus chapter is thanks to her, so everybody say THANK YOU!**

 **Review Prompt: If I told you one of Sirius's children is going to be Head Boy/Girl, but only one, which would you guess it would be?**

 **Q &A: **

**Q: How many chapters are you planning? (AvinaNox)**

 **A: Ha, great question. Remember when I said it would be between 130-140? Lies. I'm still pre-writing, and I've just started pre-writing ch. 147. I would say, at the least, we're looking at the low 160s. Definitely less than 200, but I won't make promises other than that. Some of the plot points were bigger than I realized.**

 **-C**


	49. Puzzling

**A/N: This second bonus chapter is also brought to you courtesy of** _ **AvinaNox**_ **. Everybody say thank you!**

 **-C**

Zacharias Smith watched Catherine Black smooth her skirt on the way to breakfast on a cool Saturday morning, and he heard Ryana Cotton asking her if she wanted to spend some time together before dinner.

"I'm really not sure," Catherine said lazily. "I've got plans already."

Rolling his eyes, Zacharias wondered if Ryana was ever going to realize that Catherine Black was about a mile out of Ryana's league. She could be friends with nearly anyone she wanted at the school, and he suspected that within the next year she was going to start being invited on dates from braver boys, willing to risk the wrath of her father at daring to ask out his beloved daughter.

Zacharias would not be among them, obviously. It wasn't that he was afraid of her father so much as that he felt, getting to know her in classes, that she wouldn't be worth all the trouble and effort it would take to be her boyfriend. She was pretty and charming, but she was also demanding and sharp and sometimes quite controlling, and Zacharias didn't want to spend his time with a girl who fought with him on everything.

"Oh, that's fine," Ryana said, still smiling, clueless. "I've got this book I wanted to show you, but I understand that you're busy. Maybe before bed?"

"Yeah, sure," Catherine said. "Maybe. Look, I'm going to eat with the girls at the Ravenclaw table. See you later."

Ryana was about to say words of parting, but Catherine had already taken off. Zacharias slid into a seat across from the mousy girl and said, "Stood up again, Ryana?"

"What?" she asked, puzzled. "Oh, Kitty? It's fine. It's just a book, is all. She's got lots of other things to do and say and stuff, with her other friends."

Zacharias thought about saying something to point out that Catherine Black wasn't much of a friend to her, and hadn't been much of one since the first day of their first year, but he thought it might be a bit premature to pull that. There was nothing to be gained of it as well, so he kept it as a card in his back pocket for later. It wasn't that he wanted to take advantage of Ryana, but he didn't particularly like Catherine Black, and he saw her treatment of Ryana Cotton as a kind of manifestation of what he didn't like. It didn't seem very loyal, in his book, to be constantly ditching a Hufflepuff for people from other Houses, prior friendships or otherwise. Family was one thing, but not even Harry Potter was that to Catherine.

He realized Ryana was talking to him when she gave him an expectant look and he hadn't said anything back.

"Sorry," he said, putting some sausages onto his plate. "I didn't catch that. My mind was on something else."

This didn't perturb her – not that anything much seemed to – and she simply smiled and said, "I was wondering if you'd given much thought to what extra courses you're going to do next year."

He glanced over at the Head Table where Hagrid was using his massive fork and talking to the miniscule Professor Flitwick.

"Not Care of Magical Creatures," he said stiffly.

/-/

Hogsmeade, Ron thought, was no less spectacular the second time around than it was the first. It held just as many sweets, just as many colorful things, just as many jokes in the joke shop, just as many butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks. He also had to admit, if he was being honest with himself, he liked to watch the barmaid, Rosmerta, and her impressive curves, as he drank his drink in the Three Broomsticks. But he didn't breathe that to a soul by Harry and Neville.

And today, for some reason, Harry seemed distracted. Ron supposed he was still mourning his lost broom.

/-/

At the appointed time, Catherine made her excuses of a headache to get out of being social, going to the toilet to slip on the Cloak and waiting for the clock to strike the hour, as George recommended, before making her way to the caretaker's office. Filch was heading down the corridor, hurried, toward whatever disturbance the twins cooked up – purportedly with Peeves – leaving his office unattended. Mrs. Norris was even coming with him, as promised.

Once inside his office, Catherine began carefully opening filing cabinet drawers, looking for the system that would help he find what she was looking for. Papers were in on set of cabinets, objects in another. She focused on the papers and books, looking through the years back to the eighties, and into the late seventies. Lots of dirty magazines, she mused, wondering if people ever actually looked like that in real life. Her curiosity tempted her to grab a few of these just to know what the appeal even was, but she resisted the temptation until she found a blank bit of parchment.

She turned it over, licking her lips as she pulled out her wand.

What did she say to know what it was?

"Reveal your secrets," she said, tapping her wand to the parchment.

Nothing.

She unfolded it slightly.

"Show yourself."

Nothing again. She was agitated, not sure how long she had left and knowing she still had to distance herself from the office before she could examine it properly.

"I just want to know if you're the Marauder's Map," she said, stabbing the map with frustration.

To her astonishment, words began to appear on it, but she could hear the clock mark the half hour, and she had to get away. She tucked it into her pocket and closed the drawer, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping toward the nearest staircase, glancing over her shoulder to see Filch turning the corner just as she made her way up the first few steps.

She'd done it.

Somehow, miraculously, she had the Marauder's Map.

She went to her dormitory and locked the door, knowing that the other girls were all in the library and weren't expected to come back until after lunch. She could always claim her headache, should someone come round and find the door locked. She'd made the excuse quite publically.

Catherine unfolded the parchment to read the writing.

 _Mr. Padfoot congratulates this troublemaker at finding the map, and wonders if the desire to make mischief is strong enough to discover how to properly use it._

 _Mr. Prongs echoes Mr. Padfoot's congratulations, and suggests that the troublemaker approaches with all seriousness of soul toward the task at hand._

 _Mr. Wormtail believes that the troublemaker should be warned of the oaths taken by all the Marauders to protect their secrets._

 _Mr. Moony commends the troublemaker at acquisition of this much knowledge, but warns that to move forward can pave no road to hell._

A riddle, Catherine realized, grinning, writing it down in case the writing faded before she could puzzle it through.

/-/

"It won't be that big of a deal," Ginny said with a shrug as she put a couple of sandwiches on her plate. "I mean, you live really close to us. It's not like having a holiday in France like Kitty did this summer. I'm actually really excited."

Luna seemed assuaged by this admission, and Ginny was pleased. Luna was definitely nervous that Ginny wouldn't like her house, her father, the differences between her and Catherine. It was weird for Ginny, because Luna never seemed nervous about anything. Self-conscious wasn't quite the right word, but perhaps it was just that she didn't expect anyone to like her world. Perhaps especially after Catherine's world.

"I hope Kitty's feeling well," Rhea said, frowning slightly. "Headaches are brutal."

Ginny wasn't sure what was really going on, but she'd seen the way Catherine had been putting her head together with the twins lately, and how there had been a considerable amount of chaos in the North Tower that was almost certainly to blame on the twins and, remarkably, Peeves working in tandem. Peeves working in tandem with anyone was mind-boggling enough, but Ginny suspected that the headache had something to do with the rest of it.

/-/

Harry slipped off to the toilet when he got the call on his mirror from Catherine, who was grinning.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"My dormitory," she said. "I've locked the door. You?"

"Three Broomsticks toilet," he said. "What did you get?"

"I've found it, but there's a riddle to figure out what I think is a passcode. There were four of them, Harry."

"Who's the fourth?" he asked, scratching his cheek.

"Wormtail?" she said, shrugging. "Maybe he died in the war. A lot of people did, I guess. Anyway, you ready for this?"

She read out the riddle to him, which was sort of a series of congratulations with veiled clues. He rubbed his lips together and said, "Right, well, seriousness of soul. Um, they took some kind of oaths, so maybe you have to swear something?"

"Oh," she said, smacking her hand to her forehead, which was something he hadn't seen her do in years. "Solemnly swear. Haven't you heard them say that sometimes when they're joking around with each other?" Harry nodded, recalling.

"I can't figure out what that bit is at the end, though, about roads to hell."

"No road to hell," she said, reading it over again. "Paved. Have you heard Uncle Remus say that? What's that saying he's always giving about the road to hell? Or…path to hell?"

"He's said it to Caro a time or two," Harry said, nodding and trying to remember it. "Erm, paved with good intentions, isn't it?"

"So if no road to hell is paved," she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head, "they can't be good intentions, can they?"

"The wording matters, I think," he said. "Why don't we work on this later? Ron and Neville and Hermione are going to get suspicious if I stay in here too long. I'll keep thinking and if I get a breakthrough I'll call."

"Right, ditto," she said. I'm pretending to have a headache, so I've got ages if I want them."

He nodded, said a brief word of parting, and put the mirror away with a feeling of excitement buzzing through his body.

/-/

Jason frowned at the Christmas cake and lowered his eyes to it suspiciously.

"You're sure it needs to be made this far in advance?" he asked his mother, astonished.

"If you don't want it to be dry, it does," she told him happily.

This seemed counterintuitive to him, but she assured him that by soaking it in brandy for the upcoming weeks, it would be deliciously moist when it came time for it to be served at Christmas. Jason wasn't sure, but then, it had always been moist in the past, so he supposed he shouldn't be too terribly surprised to find that it was again this year.

"Can I lick the spoon?" he asked.

/-/

They met in an alcove on the fourth floor, tucked away from sight, whispering. Harry had forgotten how close the little alcove was, but they sat together as she tried to work through the words.

"I've had a think," she said, rubbing her forehead. "I think 'no good' has to be in it. The word 'no' is very clearly part of it because of the way Moony's thing is worded."

"And I've been thinking about the oath," Harry said. "The serious oath bit? I solemnly swear. Right? So it has to start with 'I solemnly swear,' and then what?"

Catherine took out her wand, turning the bit of parchment over, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to put together the pieces. Harry watched her, holding his breath.

"Alright, let me try something," she said after four tries, having him hold the map spread out while she touched the tip of her wand to the center. "I solemnly swear…that I am…up to no good."

Their jaws dropped as ink seemed to spread across the page in the most elaborate way.

Harry read out, "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's Map."

"This is it," she said, so soft he almost didn't hear her. She was grinning gesturing for him to light his wand, which he did. "Merlin, this has everything! There's passages I've never seen, and this one has a password, it looks like."

Harry nodded, tracing his finger along the corridors looking for more secrets. He blinked when he found their alcove, with dots lingering in the alcove, dots with their names by them.

"This…this has us on it," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, frowning at his finger. "Woah. That's amazing!"

She turned over the map and began scanning it, her eyes wide.

"Harry, it shows the whole grounds, and it's not just us on it. Look! It's got everybody here! I can't believe they made this. And they were in school, they weren't much older than us!"

Harry nodded, feeling his heart pounding in excitement. He knew that she technically had the map now, and if he wanted it he was only borrowing, but the possibilities open to either of them with this map were incredible. Between his Cloak and this map, they could do almost anything they wanted, and they could organize with their mirrors.

The whole school seemed to open up to them like an oyster.

"This," he said softly, "is probably the coolest thing ever."

/-/

Draco pulled his scarf over his face and frowned as he saw Neville, Weasley, and Granger walking together back toward the castle.

"Oi!" he called, ignoring Blaise's groan of disapproval. "Neville! Where's Harry?"

"Went back early," Neville said with a shrug. "He got – he had plans with Kitty."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the way Neville turned pink, like there was something he'd been about to say that he wasn't supposed to. Still Blaise was annoyed, so he simply said a word of acknowledgement and led the way back up to the castle.

"I don't see how that's so weird," Blaise said, through chattering teeth, as they entered the gates of the grounds. "Potter and Black are inseparable in their own weird way."

Blaise was intelligent, but he didn't understand. He didn't know them like Draco did. They were clearly up to something, and he only hoped that this year they didn't drag him into it.

/-/

Harry and Catherine decided that they didn't have enough room in their alcove, so they found a passageway behind a large mirror on the fourth floor, and Harry conjured some small candles. It was caved in, so it didn't lead anywhere anymore, but there was still enough space for them to spread out the map and get a better look at it.

"This is under the Whomping Willow," Catherine said, pointing at one passage. "Leads somewhere off the grounds."

"That's probably the one where Uncle Remus went when he was in school," Harry said with a knowing nod.

Catherine agreed with a murmur. It made sense to guard the passage with something that would terrify any sane students.

"Here's one that leads off the map," she said, pointing to a statue of a humpbacked witch. "We'll have to explore that one."

Harry agreed, leaning closer to get a better look at it, his shoulder pressed to hers as he traced his finger along it.

"It's somewhere in Hogsmeade," he said. "They both are. It's the only place that makes any sense."

"Shrieking Shack," they chorused, realizing the only place Uncle Remus could have made his transformations in Hogsmeade that would be safe and not at all suspicious. The two exchanged excited grins at the thought that they could figure out a way to get into the Shack someday and see what he was like. If it wasn't really haunted, if the howls were just Uncle Remus transforming as a child, it wasn't half so spooky.

"Shortcuts to classes," she said, trying to smooth her hair out of her face. "Places to hide. Look, there's the password to the kitchens!"

Harry nodded. There were the passwords for Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, which he realized the Gryffindor one was up-to-date, which meant it must change, like the little dots of people changed, to be relevant. He saw where the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw common rooms marked, but no passwords.

"Why d'you think it's not there?"

"Well, Ravenclaw doesn't have a password as such," she said, shrugging. "They have riddles. They change every time someone answers the riddle correctly."

"What if you don't know the answer?" Harry asked, seeing that this could be massively inconvenient.

Catherine grinned, her hair falling in her face again, and she said, "You have to wait until someone can figure it out. Encourages cooperation in knowledge."

Harry didn't much like the sound of that, but he supposed it made sense. He asked why Hufflepuff didn't have one.

"Do they have a set password?" he asked.

"Kind of," she said vaguely. "I doubt they ever got in, though. Hufflepuffs would never show someone where to go, much less how to get in. They must have followed someone back. And they couldn't figure out the way in, or it would be here."

She seemed surprisingly proud about this, that their parents had never been in her common room. Harry wasn't sure what there was to be proud about, but he felt a stab of disappointment that she wasn't willing to tell him the secret of how to get in. He would have told her the Gryffindor password, he told himself, even without the map. At least, now that they were in truce after the Great Prank War.

So why wouldn't she tell him how to get into her common room? Did she not trust him? Did she think he would somehow abuse the knowledge? Did she only tell him about Ravenclaw because she figured he'd never get in, anyway?

He continued to go over the map with her, but he felt slightly deflated as they searched it for more mysteries.

 **A/N: So, the map is discovered, Ryana Cotton is an oblivious devotee, and Catherine and Harry are trying to define their friendship after their messy previous year.**

 **Review Prompt: Read the Q &A for your prompt… It's important!**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will there be a Part 3? (AvinaNox)**

 **A: Damn it, WHY do you ask these questions? It's a dangerous question, because the second someone asks about the next round, the next story, the next generation, even if I hadn't considered it, stories start sprouting in my head.**

 **So, here's the deal. I hadn't planned a Part 3, BUT, just considering how I was going to answer this question, I basically worked out the major plot essentials and some character building for Part 3. It would delve into a lovely nugget about Rabastan that I'll be dropping toward the end of this story, but not resolving. It would also involve children of our children – so Harry's offspring, Jason's offspring, etc. I won't give too much away about who as children with whom, because spoilers, but there would be plenty of childrens. We'd be crawling with them. It would also be a shorter time span, and a shorter story, think more along the lines of Part 1, also dark from start to end, like Part 1.**

 **What I'm going to be asking for the next, oh, ten chapters or so, is that if you have a feeling one way or the other – Part 3 or no Part 3, please let me know! I'll start prewriting as soon as I finish Part 2, if you guys show interest. I feel like that should give y'all plenty of time to give me insight.**

 **If you're curious and want more information before you make up your mind, don't worry about asking!**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	50. Season of Giving

Ron wasn't sure if he would go so far as to say he was disappointed he wasn't going to Selwyn Manor for Christmas this year, but he was a bit jealous of Harry and Ginny. Harry got to go to Selwyn Manor – although he always spent Christmas with the Blacks – and Ginny was getting to go away for the holiday, albeit just a little way away to the Lovegood's place. It wasn't that he didn't like being with his family for Christmas, but he'd gotten used to doing different things over the holidays.

On the train ride back to London, he watched Harry, who seemed pensive and quiet. They'd left Hogwarts on a low note, with Draco being injured by a hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures and Lucius Malfoy demanding an inquest and a hearing for the creature.

In a way, Ron could see Malfoy's point, but Hagrid was devastated, and that sadness carried over to everyone before they left for the holidays.

"I suppose you've gotten something for Kitty," Ron said, trying to turn the mood to something cheerful.

"Yeah, just chocolate," Harry said, shrugging. "It's a bit lame, really, but I know what she likes, and I did get a lot of it. Couldn't really think of anything else."

Neville groaned and said, "I got her sweets as well. Chocolate Frogs, though. I got the same thing for all three of them."

Harry shrugged.

"Caro will be pleased. And I doubt any of them will be disappointed with chocolate, but the problem is that she got me a really great birthday present, and she's bound to do something creative for me for Christmas, and I feel like I'm being terribly uncreative."

Ron looked out the window, feeling his ears beginning to go red.

He'd taken the little bit of money he had for Christmas gifts left over after Harry and Neville, and he got her a scarf in Hogsmeade. He wasn't sure if she'd like it, but it was a pretty decent shade of yellow, he thought, so she could wear it for Quidditch matches and such. She sometimes wore scarves, and he thought the brightly colored ones looked nice against her dark hair.

But it wasn't chocolate. Everyone else had gotten her sweets, and what would she think of him getting her a scarf? Would she be pleased, or think he was silly? And perhaps more importantly, what had the twins gotten her?

"I'm sure you'll have a great Christmas, Ron," Harry said, smiling at him. "You know I'd invite you both if it were my place to invite. But they've seemed a bit closed off lately."

Ron nodded, only barely listening. He didn't want apologetic excuses why he couldn't go with them to Selwyn Manor. He wasn't going, and that was that. Ron knew well enough how to make the most of things. He'd been doing it all his life.

When the train pulled into the station in London, he put on a smile and told himself he was going to have fun, and that was just that.

/-/

Lily stood with Cara as they waited for their children and Sirius to come through the barrier to the Muggle world. She looked at the letter Cara had received from the historian, Barker, and she frowned.

"Have you replied?" she asked.

"I told him he could come around after the new year," Cara said with a shrug. "It wouldn't be the first interview I've done, I suppose. I'm surprised he's bothering with me, but it does happen every once in a while."

Lily hummed and passed back the letter, making a mental note to warn Sirius that Barker would be poking his nose back in again, and soon. Surely Cara hadn't mentioned this letter to Sirius yet, or she might have made excuses why she wouldn't be able to receive him. Too late for that now, but every little bit of awareness surely would help.

/-/

James sat in the room he shared with Lily every time they came to Selwyn Manor and he carefully wrapped the box that held Harry's Christmas present. In thirteen and a half years, he couldn't remember being more excited to give Harry a gift than he was now. His excitement was even dulling his recognition that something was bothering Lily and Sirius, and had them both on edge. He ignored it. If they wanted him to know what it was, they would tell him, so he focused his energies on the gift-giving season, and he was rather pleased with himself.

This was the last gift to wrap from him and Lily. She'd trained him years ago in proper wrapping, and he'd only improved with years and years of practice. James had never intended to take over all wrapping duties when they first had Harry, but it had worked out that way. She never asked, but he could always think of at least three ways her time was better spent, so he preempted her question and did the wrapping before she could notice she hadn't the time to do it.

He was prodigiously proud of his skills as a house-husband, and how Lily hardly ever need ask him for something. If he'd known how good he would get at anticipating her wishes, he would have used that as a selling point in school when he was trying to get a date with her.

Still, he was beginning to find the silence deafening in their house at Godric's Hollow. With Lily away at work often, and Harry off at school, James was beginning to feel the loneliness of his career-less existence. He'd read more books, tried more recipes, listened to basically every Quidditch match imaginable on the wireless.

He'd even begun joking about going back to Hogwarts as a teacher. McGonagall or Dumbledore would have to retire sometime, he would tease, and when they did he'd be ready to take his rightful place with the other Marauders, teaching Transfiguration.

Lily didn't think it was very funny, but he was only half-joking. In a way, it made sense. He was too old now to go back and do a lot of things he'd thought about doing out of school. He'd been so good at Transfiguration that he guided two of his friends to becoming illegal Animagi while still teenagers, not even fully qualified. And Peter had been bloody hopeless when they'd started out. If he could teach Peter Pettigrew how to safely become an Animagus, he could teach anyone Transfiguration.

At least, that was his view of the matter. Lily seemed to think he was just bored because he didn't have enough new hobbies, and she suggested he try writing or something, but she didn't understand. He wasn't a writer, he was a doer, and about the only thing he hadn't tried doing now was flower arranging, and that just wasn't going to happen. Especially after the utter failure he'd made of crochet.

But they didn't speak of that.

He finished the wrapping on the box for Harry and he smiled to himself, backing away from it and nodding with approval. He could scarcely wait for Christmas. He'd reached the worst part about holiday wrapping – waiting for the receivers of the gifts to open them again and experience the joy of opening something they wanted.

Merlin, he was in his mid-thirties, and he still despised waiting.

/-/

Sirius paced his study as Lily told him, with her near-perfect memory, what Cara had said about the letter from Barker.

"Do you have a plan?" she asked softly.

He thought of Severus's promise, and his words, and he nodded slowly.

"Cara knows what's at stake," he said softly. "She…she knows how to answer the questions she'll get."

And if somehow this man managed to unsettle her, well, Sirius supposed they would figure out a way to deal with him.

"Did she say when he was coming?" he asked, looking out at the snow-covered garden. He wanted to be out playing in it with his children, not standing in his study trying to protect his family from prying eyes.

"After the new year," Lily said, "but nothing more specific than that. You'll have to talk to her, Sirius."

He hummed. He would have to talk to her, but he wasn't sure what to say, and how to say it yet. Instead, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused his thoughts. He knew there would be some measure of blankness behind his eyes, but it was better than spoiling the holiday with his worry. He gave Lily a forced smile and said, "Shall we make cocoa, then?"

Sirius ignored the worry when she saw his expression, the concern with his mask. It was a good mask, but Lily could always tell the difference. She knew him too well.

"Sure," she said slowly. "Cocoa sounds lovely."

/-/

Christmas morning, Cara woke up to Sirius kissing her, hovering over her and kissing her gently until he knew she was awake. When their eyes met and he could see that she was fully aware of his kisses, he smiled against her lips and slipped a hand up her thigh, glancing over the scars that still crisscrossed across her skin. She closed her eyes and returned his kisses hungrily, willing him desperately to touch her higher.

/-/

Remus stirred some sugar into his tea, frowning at Dorcas across the desk in her office. It was a tricky matter, he knew, and he didn't like the look of it, but he did understand why Albus and Dorcas wanted him involved.

"I suppose I could speak," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I can't really give more than a character reference for Hagrid. I wasn't there, and I really don't know the hippogriff in question."

"No," she said, frowning. "But you do know the child, and his condition after the event. And you know the parent in question. And you know how easily creatures are misunderstood. Look, my decision isn't made yet. Lucius Malfoy certainly has a case, but Hagrid needs an equal chance, and you're it."

Remus sighed, wishing Creature matters didn't always have to fall on his shoulders, but he agreed to help, nonetheless. It was the right thing to do.

/-/

Christmas morning, Harry started by opening a gift from Catherine. It was twofold, with sweets and a jumper in Gryffindor scarlet. She'd pinned a note to the jumper that said, "It's pretty cold this year, and this is a good color for you, as it happens."

He pulled it on with a grin and turned to his other gifts, deciding to save the rather large box from his parents for last.

Many of his friends had sent sweets, and the Weasley family had sent another jumper with so many sweets and homemade goodies that he figured he would have to share or he'd gain about fifty pounds. Hermione, of course, sent a book, and Neville sent some interesting Zonko's product.

Harry then turned his attentions to the box in question, the large box from his parents.

He wasn't stupid. From where he was sitting on the foot of the bed, he could see by the size and shape of the box that it had to be a broomstick. It only made sense for it to be a broomstick. Even Catherine had said that his parents would almost certainly get him a new broom for Christmas. The only question remaining was which broomstick it would be.

He licked his lips and leaned over the foot of the bed and pulled the parcel onto his lap, carefully unwrapping his father's very careful wrapping. He rubbed his lips together as his hands lingered at the edges of the box. Inside could be another Nimbus – likely a 2001 – or it could be something else. He knew, practically, that it had to be a Nimbus, but he could dream that it was something a little bit more impressive.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to open the box, gasping audibly at the sight of a perfect Firebolt sitting in the box.

"No," he said, grinning. "No way."

Forgetting everything else – like slippers or a dressing gown or anything, he rushed out of the bedroom holding the broom, rushing to the dining room where they would all have breakfast together, raising the broom triumphantly as he entered the room and saying a flurry of thanks to his parents as he burst out with excitement.

Catherine, who was sitting with her father at the far end of the table, raised her eyebrows in mild interest as his parents told him how welcome he was, but it was Caroline, across from Catherine, who pulled him out of his moment.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of the broom, and without another word, she began to cry, hurrying out of the room without another word.

Harry blinked after her, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What happened?"

Catherine looked down at her tea, frowning slightly, and Uncle Sirius said, "Don't mind her, Harry. Caro's jealous. She spent months begging her Mum and me for a Firebolt, and we've still not bought her a new broomstick of any sort. We tried explaining she wouldn't be able to bring one until her second year of school anyway, and there may be a new model by then, but she's inconsolable. Give it a few days. She'll be pleased for you."

Harry felt a bit deflated at this news, and he wondered how he could make it up to Caroline. Not that he'd done anything wrong, but he knew she'd be fiercely jealous until he put forward a gesture of sympathy.

Perhaps, with Uncle Sirius's permission, he'd give her a ride on it after lunch.

/-/

Colin showed Dennis the sweets that he'd been given by his friends for Christmas, particularly Ginny, and he even let him try a bar of Honeydukes Best chocolate.

"Wow," Dennis said with a mouth half full of chocolate. "This is better than Cadbury!"

If someone had told Colin before he went away to Hogwarts that there was such thing as chocolate better than Cadbury, he would never have believed. Now, though, it just seemed obvious that chocolate better than Cadbury existed.

"You should try the chocoballs," Colin said eagerly. "I wish I could get you butterbeer. Maybe when you come to Hogwarts I'll bring you back some from Hogsmeade trips!"

Dennis had shown signs of magic as well, and now they had a child who was a wizard, his parents were a lot less stressed about the whole thing. They'd already begun planning when they were going to take the boys to Diagon Alley once Dennis got his letter, and how much they'd have to change over to wizarding money in order to cover all the expenses the boys would have for the year.

"Hogsmeade?" his mother asked, not looking up from her knitting. "What's Hogsmeade?"

Colin began to explain to his mother the trips older students got to take to the village, and the stories he'd heard from third years who had begun going this year.

/-/

Harry had permission from Uncle Sirius and Aunt Cara, and he knocked on Caroline's bedroom door. He knew she was inside, so he knocked again when she didn't answer and said, "Caro, d'you want to try out the Firebolt?"

The hesitation was a bit longer than he expected, but after a few minutes the door opened slowly and Caroline stood there, eyes narrowed as she examined his face.

"How do you mean?" she demanded, and he tried not to grin.

"Your father said I could take you up on it," he said. "As long as we're both riding. Does that seem fair to you?"

He knew she would prefer going up on her own, but as she wasn't frequently allowed to use his Nimbus when he'd had that, either, and since this was a much more intense and sophisticated broom, he understood why her parents made that rule. She seemed to see why the rule existed and slowly she nodded.

"Put on some gloves and a jacket, then," he said, winking. "I'll meet you in the back garden by the rose bushes.

She closed the door in his face, but he knew it was her excitement that caused the behavior, not intentional rudeness on her part. Harry pulled on his own gloves as he walked down the stairs, seeing Catherine in the foyer, frowning up at him.

"She's going to fly, then?" Catherine asked. He nodded and her frown deepened. "You're not taking her too fast, right? That thing, I've read the stats. It's crazy quick."

Harry nodded and said, "I'll not take her too fast or too high, Kitty. I do know what I'm doing."

He didn't take it personally that she didn't look convinced, because he knew she was concerned more about Caroline and her ability to egg on anyone to what she wanted.

"If she calls you a coward…"

Harry stopped in front of her at the foot of the steps and gave her an amused smile.

"If she calls me a coward, I'll ignore her," he said teasingly. "She's a child, and I'm a Gryffindor. I know I'm not a coward." When she quirked an eyebrow in slight amusement, he decided to push his luck. He lowered his voice, took a step closer, and said, "After all, I'm brave enough to take you on any day."

Her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed and she said, "Name it, we'll do it. Chess? Gobstones?"

For a brief moment he wanted to ask her to duel, but she'd never do that at any of her family's properties. Then he thought about asking her to race him on brooms, but that wasn't exactly fair.

"Race you to the pond and back," he said, "on foot. The one who arrives back quickest and driest, as judged by Jason, wins."

"You're on," she snarled. "As soon as you're done with Caro. I'll be waiting."

Harry grinned all the way out to the back yard.

 **A/N: So, Firebolt, warm clothing, and a little healthy competition. Happy Christmas to all! Sort of. This is our THIRD bonus chapter (regular weekly chapter upcoming), thanks to the guest reviewer who poked in yesterday.**

 **Review Prompt: Along with a friendly reminder to vote on whether you want a Part 3 or not, if you were a broomstick, which one would you be? I'd probably be the Cleansweep 11. Gets the job done, but without the fuss.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What were your ships when you read the original series? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: As far as the Harry/Ron/Hermione mess, I honestly didn't care that much. I always thought Ron and Luna could be great, but all their adolescent mess was more of an annoyance than something I took interest in. I was a Remus/Tonks shipper from her first introduction. I didn't have clear reasons, at the time, but now I'm older, I recognize it was purely selfish. And for those Sirius/Tonks shippers, I was never adverse to that one, either. I've always thought the ships could exist together in canon beautifully.**

 **Funny story about my ship, actually. When Nat Tena was in GoT and apparently took off her clothes in a scene (haven't seen it), the internet exploded with people who were like, "OMG my childhood!" And I laughed. But then later that day, I realized that in having a child, Remus and Tonks had to, you know, CONCEIVE the child. Which means, they had canon sex. BAM. I felt so triumphant, like it just smacked me in the face, even though it's kind of obvious.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	51. Unraveling

When Cara excused herself to the gates, Lily asked James to take the children outside, maybe a snowball fight, but just keep them outside for as long as he could. He was curious, naturally, but he didn't ask questions, and Lily exchanged a glance with Sirius.

"Where will she go with him?" Lily asked, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

"I've told her to go to the sitting room," Sirius said, glancing toward the foyer. "I wanted the conservatory, but I figured the kids would be outside and I didn't want them overhearing anything."

Lily hummed her approval of this arrangement, and she licked her lips, looking around the room.

"Should we make tea or something?" she asked.

"I've set up firewhiskey in there," he said firmly. "That's all I'm offering him."

She lifted an amused eyebrow.

"But you know he doesn't drink when he's interviewing," she said. She'd offered Barker the same, but he'd taken tea instead.

Sirius said nothing, but the twitch of his lips said it all.

They froze when Cara led Mr. Barker into the house looking slightly anxious, pulling a ribbon between her hands. Sirius tensed at the sight of the ribbon, and Mr. Barker looked in at Lily and Sirius and smiled at them.

"Mr. Black," he said cheerfully. "Madam Potter. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Lily said politely, but Sirius said nothing.

"Ah, this way, Mr. Barker," Cara said, gracefully leading him through the music room toward the sitting room.

"So, what options can I expect from you?" Lily asked softly, not bothering to look at Sirius. He was wearing his mask, hiding his emotions.

"Either nothing at all," he said softly, "or I'm going to ask you to…hold him here while I get Severus."

Her stomach turned at the thought that they might have to resort to extreme measures, but she understood what they were dealing with. Those two had done worse during the war, certainly.

"I'll get us some tea," she said, and she smiled softly. "We can set up in the music room and listen, maybe check on them after a while if it's taking a long time."

Sirius grinned at her when she looked up at him, a genuine grin, and he said, "Lily, I love you. You're positively brilliant. Times like this, I know exactly why James fell in love with you."

She laughed, knowing that he was being a little too excitable, but they went to the kitchen quickly to make some tea and asked Dobby to bring them more if they hadn't told him otherwise within the hour. Lily led the way to the music room, where she set up their tea tray and began to stir a bit of sugar into Sirius's tea, a bit of milk and sugar into her own.

"I recognize," she could hear Barker saying through the thin wall to the sitting room, "that you have not been interviewed as often on these matters as your husband, Madam Black, but I am very interested, I assure you, in everything you can recall from the night Voldemort was vanquished."

Lily and Sirius exchanged a glance over their tea as they sipped, and she knew Sirius was holding his breath as they waited for Catherine's soft response.

"Well, I don't know that I'll be able to tell you anything new, but I will certainly answer your questions."

"That is all I ask, Madam Black. And who knows? You may remember more than you think."

/-/

Rabastan turned over his notes and the papers he had taken from the Ministry to examine the situation at hand more carefully. They were requisition notices: things a certain historian had requested and obtained regarding the war – namely regarding the end of it. He'd obtained access to all the interviews and papers and inquests about the death of the Dark Lord, but Rabastan could feel his blood going cold as he looked over some of the other records that had been requested.

He wanted public record access to birth and pre-natal information around the time Catherine Black would have been born, all the way back to about a month before the death of the Dark Lord. He wanted access to the official documentation requesting Order of Merlin being bestowed on all those who received them at the end of the war. He wanted access to information on Bellatrix Lestrange's mental state, the mysterious disappearance of Barty Crouch, Jr., and financial information that had to do with the Blacks.

It was like he knew that Cara was the weak point, and that he needed to poke at her.

The most damning bit of paperwork, however, was that he had made a request to access the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. He was already into the third round of paperwork, maybe two weeks from getting approval, Rabastan supposed from some quick calculation. If he could get into that hall, if he could hear the prophecy about the death of the Dark Lord….

He would have everything he needed to rewrite history.

/-/

Sirius couldn't smoke a cigarette while they listened, so he found himself, mysteriously, biting his thumbnail. No matter how many times Lily gave him a disapproving look, he kept having his thumbnail winding up back in his mouth, and he nibbled at it. He would stop to take a bit of tea, and then his thumb would end up back up to his mouth again.

Barker was asking those same sorts of questions he'd been asking when he talked to Severus and Sirius, the dangerous questions that could ruin everything. Cara was answering them correctly, but he could tell by the length of pauses and the tension in her voice that Barker's knowledge and composure was beginning to fluster her. During the war, she was allowed to appear flustered. It was expected of her. Now, though, it could only ruin things. Sirius breathed heavily through his nostrils, and he wondered if he could salvage this without breaking any laws.

/-/

Hannah tried to explain to her mother why Hufflepuff wasn't likely to win the House Cup, yet again, this year, even though they'd managed to beat Gryffindor at Quidditch.

"It was kind of a fluke," she said, shrugging and feeling her cheeks blush. "Potter would definitely have caught the Snitch if it hadn't been for the Bludger."

"But that's still within the rules," her mother said, puzzled. "And he didn't catch it."

Hannah didn't really know how to explain that it was a completely unrepresentative match, so she mostly just gave up, and said that all the top students were in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and that was that.

/-/

When Cara finally walked out of the sitting room in a daze, Sirius stood abruptly, his eyes blank once more, frowning at Barker, who was going to follow Cara out.

"Lily, take Cara for some tea," Sirius said firmly. "Mr. Barker, I'd like a word with you, if I may."

Barker regarded Sirius with that same pleasant, cheerful indifference, and he returned to the sitting room, letting Sirius follow him in and lock the door. If this gave Barker any nervousness, he said nothing about it.

Sirius took a few breaths as he tried to decide where to start, how to engage in this conversation that would decide for Sirius whether or not he needed to wipe the man's memories and destroy his work.

"Your wife," Barker said calmly, "she's the one who killed him, isn't she?"

The room seemed to go several degrees cooler as Sirius turned to look at Barker, saying nothing. The man seemed to take this as confirmation, however, and ignored the fact that Sirius had not spoken.

"It is the only thing that fills in all the gaps," he said calmly. "Because the elder Mr. Lestrange had gaps in his memory when a colleague of mine examined his account some years ago, and several people who had been present at the party do not recall your wife taking ill at all. They recall Madam Malfoy taking suddenly ill, after the rest of you had more or less disappeared."

Sirius's hands had clenched into fists without his notice, but Barker kept going, not showing any signs that he was afraid or uneasy. He had all the cards, and he seemed to know it.

"The idea of Bellatrix Lestrange murdering Voldemort never really fit, did it?" Barker continued. "Even less when the prophecy was taken into account." Sirius's eyes widened before he could catch himself, and Barker noticed this with a slight increase in his smile. "Oh, I've not heard the official record of it yet, but I have friends who gave me notes on it. Regardless of the finer points that I might learn from hearing it, Madam Lestrange was incapable of having children. Clearly, Madam Black is not."

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself. When he opened them again, he said, "What would it take to convince you to keep this quiet? Money? Threats? Wiping your memory? I'm really not opposed to doing any of it."

"No, I wouldn't think you would be," Barker said, still calm. "Given what you've been willing to do to protect your wife, there's very little I think would bother you by now. I have to ask, before you decide what you're going to do with me, why bother hiding this truth? No one would blame her for killing the evilest wizard of our time, maybe of all time. What are you trying to protect her from?"

Sirius rubbed his forehead. He supposed it was only fair to explain. Maybe explaining would help him sort out what he wanted to do with this man, anyway.

"At the time, they would have," Sirius said softly. "You didn't know Crouch. He was locking away anyone who might be a threat to his order, no matter who they killed and why. If he'd had his way, if Albus Dumbledore hadn't supported us, Severus and I would be in Azkaban now, not holders of the Order of Merlin, teaching students at Hogwarts. At the time, it was necessary. She was pregnant, and her health was critical."

Barker nodded and said, "And now?"

Sirius paced for nearly a full minute before he said, "You've studied us all thoroughly, I imagine?" Barker nodded again. "You know what my wife went through as a child, kept in a cellar because she might be a Squib. Tortured by her biological father whenever he was upset with her." Barker nodded.

Sirius poured himself a firewhiskey, and held up the bottle in offering, but Barker shook his head.

"Her mind was altered to draw me back to our society, and then she was viciously forced to have her memories again, painful as it was to unleash them. And even when we were together, she had to worry about me, had to be party to all kinds of things while acting as a spy. My cousin, Madam Lestrange as you call her, tried to get Barty Crouch, Jr. to seduce Cara, to get her knocked up because she knew the Dark Lord was worried about any of his supporters having children."

He hesitated, glancing at Barker, whose lips had twitched at the mention of Barty Crouch, and the man laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Black. I'm not digging into the Crouch disappearance. Whatever my feelings on the matter, there's not enough evidence for me to write anything useful on the matter."

Sirius's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. He tossed back the firewhiskey and poured another. Again, he offered to Barker, who shook his head.

"Your concern, then," Barker said softly as Sirius drank the second glass of firewhiskey, "is that a change in public perception of your wife would be a great strain on her emotionally."

Sirius thought about Catherine and how she would look at him if she ever saw the mark on his arm, if she ever knew the kinds of things he had done to protect Cara.

"Yes," Sirius said softly. "It would change everything. And really, what's the point in digging up the past, Mr. Barker?"

"You tell me, Mr. Black. You teach History of Magic." Sirius poured another glass of firewhiskey with a snort, but Mr. Barker just stared back at him this time when the bottle was gestured to. He said, "The fact is, Mr. Black, even if I agree not to write this, or you wipe my memory, or you kill me, this story will come out someday. There are too many loose ends that have been left dangling for too long. Someone else will become interested and it will be published, either as reasoned and dispassionate fact, or scandalous gossip and speculation. It's really only a matter of time." He rested his hands calmly in his lap and said, "Would you prefer the former, for your wife and children, or the latter?"

Sirius glanced out the window, seeing Catherine laugh as she put a snowball down Harry's jumper, the boy leaping nearly out of his skin at the sensation. They were so happy, Sirius thought. So innocent. To change everything now….

But Barker wasn't wrong. The simple fact that Bellatrix killing the Dark Lord made little sense was enough to ensure that someone, someday – and likely someday soon – would start digging again, and he couldn't bribe or kill them all. He needed to choose his battles, to do damage control.

And as much as he hated the thought, this Barker seemed reasonable, measured, and trustworthy. He knew what Sirius might do to him, and he didn't seem afraid to die.

And Sirius respected that.

/-/

Ron packed for school eagerly, wanting to go back for the first time. He'd enjoyed his time at home, of course. He always enjoyed time without coursework, and days with his mother's cooking. But he missed seeing his friends every day, missed having interesting things to look at, jokes that the people in his family didn't understand.

Not to mention, he desperately wanted to see and touch and maybe even ride Harry's new Firebolt. The letter was exciting, but it was hardly enough information. He wanted to see or feel it in action. He was enormously jealous that Harry said he'd given Caroline Black a ride on the broom, that she had felt the speed and fury of it before Ron had even seen it, but he supposed it only made sense that she would be interested in it.

Ron wondered if Catherine had ridden on it yet. He liked to think that she liked to ride brooms, and ride fast. Harry said that sometimes they would race, although he always won. But maybe that was because she didn't have as good of a broom.

"Ronald?" his mother said, knocking on the door. "Are you packing?"

"Yeah, Mum," he said, jolting out of his reverie. "Nearly done."

"Really?" she asked, opening the door and looking around the room approvingly. "Well, so you are. Ginny and Luna are coming here tomorrow and they'll spend the night. Xeno can't take them to the train station, and I said we had plenty of room."

Ron winced at the thought of Luna seeing the inside of their house, of really seeing how poor they were, but then he remembered that this was Luna, not Catherine, and she was weird enough that she probably wouldn't even notice there was anything unusual about the Burrow at all.

/-/

Pouring another pint for himself and whatever measurement Hagrid's large glass was, Remus said, "So, you're quite certain you gave the warning about insulting hippogriffs, Hagrid?"

"Oh, yeah," Hagrid said, accepting the drink with thanks. "Ask anyone in the class."

Remus supposed he wouldn't ask just anyone. Pansy Parkinson, for example, was likely to give an inaccurate account of events in an attempt to get Draco to be grateful to her and take her seriously as a marriage prospect. On the other end of the spectrum, Harry was known to be friendly with Hagrid, and close to Remus personally, and perhaps not the most level-headed and responsible of students.

Perhaps he would talk to Hermione. It was hard to find fault with her as a witness.

"I will, just to be on the safe side," Remus said gently. "It never hurts to have more accounts to support your case. Where's Buckbeak now, Hagrid?"

"He's in a separate paddock in th' forest," Hagrid said sadly. "I've put more o' the thestrals together. They don' seem to mind."

Remus wasn't totally sure that was the best of ideas, but at least no students could goad Buckbeak (or thestrals, for that matter) into a further attack if he was in the forest. That is, as long as no one else dared their classmates to go into the forest. He sighed at the memory of having to hunt down Harry and Catherine.

No, definitely couldn't use Harry's testimony to build their case.

"Malfoy wants me sacked, don' he?" Hagrid asked.

Remus thought it was a distinct possibility, but he said nothing.

/-/

Ginny stepped out of the rook-shaped house after Luna on their last morning staying there thinking that while it couldn't possibly compare to Selwyn Manor or Egypt, the Lovegood residence was its own kind of adventure. She smiled fondly at the sign asking guests to keep off the Dirigible Plums. Ginny wasn't actually sure where Dirigible Plums came from, or what made them dirigible. She wasn't even sure they were safe to eat, or remotely related to plums. But they were so…Lovegood.

"Let's walk," Luna said happily to her father, who had already sent their trunks by Floo Network, which Ginny was grateful for. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of walking all that way, but she supposed it would be a way of getting her into better shape for her training sessions with the Gryffindor team, come the start of term.

All in all, though, she decided the holiday hadn't been a half-bad one.

Weird, but not half bad.

 **A/N: So, that's this week's regularly scheduled chapter. You've been spoiled in the past 24 hours! ;) This is not the last chapter today, as THIS week's bonus starts tonight! Already to 16 reviews for today. Remus is taking the case, Mr. Barker knows too much, and what even ARE dirigible plums?**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly nudge about whether you want a Part 3. Also, if you were Professor McGonagall, would you be pleased you didn't have Catherine Black in your House, or annoyed that you have to deal with Harry's chaos? Probably both, but if you HAD to pick one thing…**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Can we get some sort of family tree diagram? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: *laughs nervously* Okay, so, I read this question and I was like, "Yeah, I could totally do that." So I start drawing out a family tree in my notebook, across two pages, and I barely do the Blacks and Lestranges before I realize there is NOT going to be enough room. So I write out EVERY character for all three (just in case) parts and I'm like, "I'll just put these on some stickies and put those on some paper until I get the best arrangement." So I start doing that, and it starts expanding as I fit in more and more people, and all of a sudden, it's taken over half our living room floor.**

 **So… not going to be able to take a picture. But what I will do is make it a priority after I've posted the next bonus chapter to put a section on my profile which will keep track of all OCs in Unknowns who are offsprings or SOs of offsprings, to grow as needed. And if I'm not keeping it up-to-date, please harass me.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	52. Release Valve

**A/N: This bonus chapter is dedicated to new reader** _ **albus potter-greengrass**_ **.**

 **-C**

Draco did his best to ignore the whispers as he went through his day, but he knew that many of the students were busy gossiping about how his father was trying to get Hagrid fired. Draco stayed out of it, not wanting to draw any attention more to his case than necessary. He didn't need to have any distractions from his schoolwork, and he didn't want to have to defend his father's somewhat overzealous behavior.

"I hope they call me as a witness," Pansy Parkinson was saying on the way down to Care of Magical Creatures. "I submitted my name, you know. I think it's terrible that he can keep teaching until the hearing."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that even his father wasn't desperate enough to call Pansy Parkinson as a witness to the case. Madam Prewett would dismiss her testimony in a heartbeat. It was a little bit too clear how eager she was to say terrible things about Hagrid and the hippogriff.

He didn't catch Hagrid's eye when he arrived at the lesson, which consisted of flobberworms – potentially the most boring thing to exist in all the earth – and feeding them lettuce. And really, in Draco's mind, nothing was more boring than lettuce, except perhaps flobberworms.

"I hope you're pleased," Weasley said bitterly. "This class was fun before you went and screwed it up."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Weasley and had just opened his mouth to retort when he saw Harry shake his head slightly. Of course, Harry was right. All that would be achieved by it was to get in a fight, and that wouldn't make matters any easier on Hagrid. It certainly wouldn't quell the rumors.

"Lettuce again, no doubt," he said dryly, tossing his bag on the ground. "It's terrible."

A few other students looked at him and frowned, and Draco ignored their disapproval. He'd always been pretty good at ignoring the disapproval of others, using his mother's advice about thinking about how small they were compared with his heritage. It helped him hold his head up high, even though he knew he could never get away with say such things out loud.

He glanced over at the flobberworms and winced. It wasn't really fair, and he hadn't even wanted to file any kind of complaint, but he knew what he could expect from his father. At least he knew that Madam Prewett was favorably disposed to creatures' rights, and he'd heard Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore discussing that whoever was advocating for the hippogriff and Hagrid was quite formidable. Plus, any witnesses they took from the class – apart from Pansy – would speak on Hagrid's behalf, and Draco really didn't mind. He knew he'd been told not to insult the hippogriff. He knew that it didn't injure him in any way that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix quickly.

He just also knew that his father was going to make everything difficult, because, as his mother said, that was just what his father had to do. It was the only way he knew he was doing anything he saw as useful.

/-/

Rhea sat down with Catherine, going over their notes for History of Magic.

"Describe him," Rhea asked after Catherine talked about a mysterious man showing up at Selwyn Manor and talking to her parents while Mr. Potter made the kids to a snowball fight for ages.

The description would have been fairly generic, but when Catherine started talking about the expression on his face, Rhea knew it was the same man, the historian who had talked to her mother at their house.

"He's an historian," Rhea said, shrugging. "He interviewed my mum as well. But I don't really know what to think. Apparently he's just writing about the war."

Catherine raised her eyebrows and said, "Seriously? But my mother didn't do anything interesting during the war. She didn't fight or anything, she just got married and remodeled Grimmauld Place."

Rhea raised her eyebrows, wondering what there was about Madam Black that her own children didn't know, because there was no way this man interviewed her for no good reason.

/-/

Remus inhaled deeply as he stood before the tribunal, led by Dorcas, who had to show no signs of impartiality. It was ridiculous that it even made it to this point, the whole case, but Lucius Malfoy was still a very powerful man who could get very many things his way.

"The tribunal recognizes Remus John Lupin," Dorcas read out, "professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That is I," Remus said, speaking a little louder than natural in order to be heard by the whole tribunal.

"Your expertise?"

He nodded and said, "I am a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, specializing in defense from Dark Creatures."

"The nature of you gathering this expertise?" Amos Diggory asked, making notes for his reference.

"Well, I am a werewolf, for a start," Remus said calmly, watching Diggory flinch. In spite of the wonderful reforms Dorcas had put in place, many of their generation and older struggled with the old prejudices. "I also have spent a great deal of time studying and working with creatures of all sorts."

"Hippogriffs included?" Dorcas asked.

"Not usually," he admitted. "However, I did receive a N.E.W.T. in Care of Magical Creatures upon becoming fully qualified, and my training then did cover hippogriffs in theory."

"What can you tell us about hippogriffs pertinent to the case at hand?" Amos Diggory asked, frowning at him thoughtfully.

Remus cleared his throat and said, "Well, on hippogriffs I can say that they are generally not aggressive creatures unless threatened or insulted."

"Insulted."

"Yes."

"Verbally?"

Remus smiled and said, "Like a great number of magical creatures, Mr. Diggory, they are highly intelligent. Whether or not they understand human speech as you or I do, they certainly can understand tone of voice."

A few other members of the tribunal laughed, and Lucius Malfoy bristled.

"You teach the student in question," Dorcas said, "Draco Malfoy."

"I do."

"Tell us about him as a student."

Remus took a deep breath and trained his eyes away from Lucius Malfoy, knowing that he was about to incur at least some wrath.

/-/

Aeson frowned as he heard his father speaking in a very low, very angry tone. It was his parents speaking, which meant that his father was furious with his mother. That tone was reserved for serious mistakes, so whatever his mother had done, his father thought it was incredibly significant. He thought he should walk away, but he couldn't resist the temptation to press his ear to the door for a moment.

"What on earth possessed you, Delia?" his father said, cool, calm, furious.

"It was the right thing to do."

"For who?" his father said. "You don't have the right to determine what's the best thing for Cara, or her children."

"Don't you think she has that right, Rabastan?" his mother asked. "Why is it always down to you and Sirius?"

Aeson decided that whatever this was, he was definitely not supposed to hear it, so he went upstairs to find his brother. Maybe he could goad him into a game of gobstones or something of that sort.

As he walked, though he couldn't get the conversation out of his head, and he couldn't stop wondering what his mother had done, and what it was supposed to mean for the Blacks.

He thought about writing to Caroline to ask her what was going on, but she might not know, or his father might find out. Judging by the snippet he heard, nothing good would come of such a letter being discovered. Best not to start it.

/-/

Remus cleared his throat and said, "Draco is a highly capable student. He works very hard and is quite intelligent. He has some good aptitude for my class, although more for spellwork than creature identification. I would say he is not my most…empathetic student."

"Explain," Dorcas said.

"How is this relevant, Madam Prewett?" Diggory asked.

Remus said, "If I may, Mr. Diggory, it is quite important, when dealing with creatures, to have empathy. It cuts down considerably on dangerous mistakes. For example, when a teacher tells students not to insult a creature and why, students with empathy are far more likely to respect and remember this discuss than those who struggle with empathy."

"And this is the case with the younger Mr. Malfoy?" Dorcas asked.

"Yes, I would say so," Remus said. "It isn't a case of him being incapable of developing the required empathy, but he is currently slightly deficient in the trait to be dealing for long periods of time with the more dangerous creatures."

"So you think Professor Hagrid was in the wrong to expose third year students to such dangerous creatures?" Diggory asked.

Remus felt his nostrils flare and he fought the urge to say the first thing that came to his mind. All the things he could say from youth to put Amos in his place, but this was a tribunal, and he had to be careful. Everything was on the record.

/-/

Ourania was pestering Damon as he tried to read, but he didn't really mind. He was annoyed that their mother was at work, but he knew it wasn't her fault that she was called to a tribunal. Still, he felt slight resentment he couldn't seem to get rid of.

"You know, Rhea said she has a friend who has a Firebolt."

Damon wouldn't exactly call Harry Potter Rhea's friend. Maybe a friend of a friend. But it wasn't really important.

"I wonder if he's let her use it."

Damon doubted this, but he licked his lips and turned the page of his book, letting his eyes skim the picture in the upper left corner of the right-hand page. Some goblin he'd not yet read about, but he was probably about to learn all about.

"Maybe, when I go to Hogwarts, he'd let me use it."

He definitely didn't think that would happen, but he was trying to find information about this goblin, so he didn't bother telling Ourania that there was no way Harry Potter would let her ride his Firebolt. If he was smart, he wouldn't let anyone ride it.

"Damon, d'you think we'll be in Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw?"

He looked up at his twin and blinked at her, for a split second wanting to tell her she was going to be a Slytherin just to see how she would respond, but she was looking at him so earnestly that it didn't seem right.

"You'll be in Gryffindor," he said. "I'm not too particular where I end up."

"You need to be with me," she said, almost sadly. "I don't think I could be in a House you weren't in."

"Then I'll be in Gryffindor."

/-/

Remus sat down and watched the discussion from his seat next to Albus.

"You spoke very well," Albus said gently. "All that we can do now is trust in Dorcas's formidable ability to persuade her peers."

"I don't really seem them as her peers," Remus muttered. "She basically owns them."

Albus chuckled as they waited for the verdict. Remus could see the appeal of Lucius's argument, and it was well-delivered.

Dorcas stood, cleared her throat, and said, "After much consideration, firstly, this tribunal declares and finds that Rubeus Hagrid is not neglectful as a professor and a caretaker of children, having given the student in question ample warning that the behavior would lead to the result incurred. By reacting promptly and appropriately to the situation, he did not further endanger the child beyond reasonable consideration. He will retain his job at Hogwarts, as requested by Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Hagrid relaxed slightly, but Lucius sat up straighter waiting for the verdict on the hippogriff, which was what he'd really been after, anyway.

Dorcas glanced over the next piece of paper before saying, "Secondly, this tribunal declares and finds that the hippogriff known as Buckbeak is not a peculiarly dangerous or aggressive hippogriff, as he demonstrated prior to the incident a great ability to be used within a classroom setting and has had no prior nor subsequent issues of this type. The hippogriff is found to have behaved within accordance of its breed and instinctive behavior, and not excessively responding. The student was not harmed in any permanent manner, and this tribunal finds that it would be prudent for this student to learn to behave more carefully around creatures of this classification, and thus this course will be very good for him. Adjourned."

Lucius Malfoy stood as though about to call for an appeal, but Dorcas raised a challenging eyebrow at him and he sat back down, his jaw tight with thinly retained dignity.

/-/

It occurred to Astoria Greengrass, as she watched Draco read a letter about the verdict of the tribunal his father had been launching against the hippogriff, that he looked almost relieved to find that Hagrid still had his job and the hippogriff had been cleared of all charges.

"Oh, no," Pansy said, stupidly. Astoria schooled her face to a neutral expression, but she watched Draco's with interest. "Will there be an appeal? Surely there will be an appeal. I told you they should have called me to give my testimony of the event."

"Why, so you could lie?" Draco said dryly. "The beast wasn't guilty of anything dire, and Hagrid even less so. To say otherwise would be a lie, Pansy, and there's no point in calling an appeal for you to break the law. Anyway, there's no appeal and I don't want one."

Astoria was impressed with his attitude, although perhaps he could have been a little less brutally honest to Pansy, but they'd all been itching to say it out loud.

Pansy looked stunned and hurt, and then she left, Daphne following her to their dormitory, probably for Pansy to cry and Daphne to tell her something that was a blatant lie.

Draco looked up at Astoria as though he expected her to follow them, but when she just stared back at him levelly, he looked back down at his book and said nothing further to her.

/-/

Sirius grinned as Remus told him about the tribunal, about how Dorcas put Amos Diggory in his place. He'd wanted to go, but he couldn't get the time away. He couldn't stand Diggory.

"Well, it's nice that Draco didn't ruin Hagrid's life," Sirius said, stretching out. "I think I would have murdered my cousin-in-law if that happened. Might do it anyway."

He saw Remus frown slightly, probably wondering if Sirius would actually murder Lucius.

As tempting as it often was, Sirius would never do that to Narcissa. Unless she asked. Then he would do it without hesitation. He supposed thoughts like that should scare him, but they really didn't anymore. The right things were what mattered. The reasons. And for family, he realized, he would do pretty much anything.

/-/

Blaise changed into his pajamas and said, "So have we suddenly befriended the younger Greengrass?"

"Hmm?" Draco asked.

"Astoria Greengrass," Blaise repeated. "We didn't try to chase her off when Pansy and Daphne left us alone. I presume you had a reason."

In truth, Blaise wasn't sure what was up with the curious look Draco had given the young, and remarkably confident, girl. Still, she was tolerable.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said, and Blaise decided to ignore the lie. For now.

/-/

Fabian listened to Dorcas explaining the tribunal and how frustrating Amos Diggory had been.

"Well, you've gotten him to be more reasonable about sentient creatures," he reasoned, shrugging. "Things thing sometimes have to happen in small steps, dove. The important thing is that you and Remus were able to save Hagrid's career and an innocent creature."

"Yeah," she said, sighing. "I just wish we could get Lucius Malfoy on board a bit more with…everything. His looking over his shoulder is good for keeping him in line for the most part, but he pushes back everywhere he thinks he can, and that just makes life difficult."

Fabian understood his wife's frustration, but he had no answers for her. He also knew she wasn't confiding in him for answers. When she wanted his input on something, she was very straightforward about it.

"No, I think I'll have to talk to Narcissa and Rabastan," she said, running her hands through his hair. "They at least have some idea of how to handle him. Fabian, do you have some idea of what we're going to do for Cora when she gets her letter?"

"Definitely we need to have Gideon over to celebrate," he said, smiling at the thought of how doting his brother was with Cora. "He'd never forgive us if we didn't."

"Well, of course."

"Otherwise, we probably shouldn't make too big of a deal of it," he said, stretching out across her lap and sighing as she turned off the bedside lamp. "Imagine what it'll be like trying to celebrate the twins if we make too much of a fuss out of the other ones."

Dorcas sighed and agreed, moving down so that they were more even with each other so that he could tuck his face into her neck. He couldn't manage to say what he'd been about to say about the twins, because he forgot it when he could smell her perfume in a fresh wave, and he thought about how much he loved being wrapped up in her.

"You're not tired, are you?" he asked, frowning slightly as he realized she'd turned the light out. What if her work day had been too tiring and she wasn't interested in sex? His heart began to pound rather rapidly as he felt the anxiety rush over him in a wave.

"Not quite," she said, almost playfully, and he felt another wave, this of relief, as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

 **A/N: So, Buckbeak is redeemed, Astoria intrigues Draco, and Dorcas is frustrated with Lucius. This is the last one from me tonight unless I get three more reviews in the next few hours. Then you might get another bonus!**

 **Review Prompt: Another friendly reminder to let me know if you want a Part 3! Also, d'you think Lucius Malfoy is beyond serious redemption, or could he still change?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: I thought Kitty had grey eyes? (Guest)**

 **A: *cough* If I said that, it was a mistake. She's got brown eyes, like her mum. The other two have grey. Tried to find my original notes on this, but couldn't. Sorry if that was puzzling.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	53. On the Sleeve

Rabastan sighed when he looked at the newspaper article proclaiming the publication of the new history of the war, by Mr. Timothy Barker. Rita Skeeter, of all people, reviewed the book, and he rubbed his temples.

 _"This takes a different approach to war history, revealing some carefully withheld information," Barker proclaims._

 _When asked what specifically about the book would tell readers something new, Barker said, "The story of how Voldemort died was fabricated to protect the actual person who finished him off. There's two whole chapters dedicated to the true story and its cover-up."_

 _Who is this hero, dear readers?_

 _"Cara Black, nee Selwyn," Barker said. "The story was created to protect her from the emotional turmoil of dealing with the spotlight while she was expecting her first child, among other reasons, but Madam Black is the unsung heroine of the war."_

Rabastan felt his chest restricting, wondering what this new information would mean for Cara, for the children, for Sirius. Everyone would know now, and buy the book, and read the story. Sirius, Rabastan knew, had given a full account of the true story so that it was told correctly and respectfully to all those involved.

Part of this was coloring Rabastan as better than the truth really would, but Rabastan didn't really mind. He had been a Death Eater, and everyone knew it. But Sirius's children still didn't know what he'd done during the war, and it would shatter their reality to learn.

Delia sat down at the breakfast table before the boys came down, and Rabastan looked across the table at his wife, frowning.

"Well," he said, sliding the paper to her, "for better or for worse, it's done now."

"See, they're praising her as a hero," Delia said, smiling, as if this one article would determine the gambit of public opinion.

He hoped she was right, but he would pay a visit to Cara, regardless, and help her explain matters to Jason and Caroline, as he promised Sirius. It was Sirius's unfortunate responsibility to explain things to Catherine and Harry Potter. Rabastan couldn't imagine what it would be like for Sirius to tell Catherine, to show her the mark on his arm as he had resolved to do.

"I need to go out today," he said.

Delia's eyes told him that she knew exactly what he was going out for and that she wasn't pleased about it, but he really didn't care. She'd set this in motion, and he would not pity her for any adverse impact to her life. Maybe next time she would look before she leapt, before she dragged everyone else down a cliff with her.

"How long?"

"However long it takes," he said, looking up as the boys stumbled in sleepily. He motioned for Delia to remove the paper from the room, not wanting them to see the news until Jason and Caroline knew, at the very least. It wouldn't be right. Delia kissed both boys on the top of the head and said good morning as she took the paper – rolled up in her hand – out of the room as though she had to put it somewhere significant. If either boy noticed, they made no sign of it as they sat down at the table.

No, he could still see the sleep in both pairs of eyes. Whatever was going on behind them, it didn't have anything to do with Cara's history. They were perhaps still thinking of the dreams they'd had, of the games they would play or the books they would read during this particular day. They had no concept that the whole of England was about to turn upside down completely, and that their aunt was at the center of it all.

"Any big plans today, boys?" he asked, as though nothing was amiss at all in the universe.

They just shrugged.

/-/

Dorcas walked into work and everyone stared at her. That was her first clue that the morning paper had been well-read that morning, and that some of them had already picked up copies of the book to skim through. Amos Diggory's eyes widened upon seeing her, and she had a feeling that was a conversation she was going to have, but she didn't want to have it right now.

She sat down and pulled the top file off her stack, trying to ignore all the many pairs of eyes that were looking at her, waiting for her to address the matter at hand.

But how could she address anything until she'd spoken to Cara, until she knew that the Black children were handling things okay?

Because she was a mother. She understood that Catherine and Jason and Caroline were potentially the true victims of Mr. Barker's search for truth. Until she knew that they were coping, she wasn't going to address anything at all, because it wasn't her place.

Someone came over to her desk and she looked up expectantly at the young man, who hovered for a moment, frowning like he was trying to think of something to say.

"Did you need something?" she asked, trying to be polite instead of short.

Perhaps she didn't succeed, or perhaps he was just a nervous type, because he hastily stuck a file on her stack and hurried away from her desk as though she'd tried to bite his hand off. With a sigh, Dorcas went back to tuning out the rest of the world.

/-/

When Rabastan arrived at Grimmauld Place, Cara was pale, but functional.

"Have they seen it?" he asked when she launched herself into his outstretched arms. It was holding her in a hug that he could feel her unsteadiness fully, and he realized that she was quite shaken by the whole affair.

"No," she whispered, trembling like a leaf. "I don't know what to say, Rabastan. I don't know how…. I need Sirius."

"He can't get away from work," he reminded her. "Don't worry. He and I had a talk. I know what you wanted to cover with them. I'll be right here if your mind goes blank or anything."

He could have kicked himself for the insensitive choice of idiom, but she just flinched slightly and nodded. Sooner better than later.

/-/

Lucius had purchased a copy of the book as soon as he saw the article, and he could have cursed Narcissa for the lack of warning on this matter.

Everything. The book had everything, although he realized Black must have told the story, because Rabastan came out looking an awful lot better than he really was. For Cara's sake, no doubt.

"What is this?" he said, waving the book at his wife, who was sketching in her study.

"It's a book, dear," Narcissa said, not looking up. "And if you have such a problem with it, well, it's a bit late now. Go have a drink, Lucius, before you say something you'll regret."

/-/

Harry sat down with Catherine in Uncle Sirius's office, rubbing his hands together as they waited for an explanation of what had happened, of the news article that had rocked their world that morning.

"I owe an explanation," Sirius said, sighing, sitting down from pacing, not meeting their eyes. "Both of you but…but especially to you, Kitty-Cat."

Catherine was pulling absently at her fingers, waiting for the explanation in question.

"I met your mother when we were children and…and her parents were very cruel to her," he said sighing. "Uncle Rabastan's father tortured her when she was in his way, and she was so late in showing signs of magic that they kept her in the cellar so that people might forget she existed, in case she turned out to be a Squib."

Harry watched a shiver run through Catherine. He couldn't imagine a life like that.

"I didn't see her again for years, about a decade. I ran away from home when I was sixteen because of…disagreements in philosophy with my family. Lived with your dad's family," he said, smiling at Harry weakly. "Joined the fight with Professor Dumbledore and my friends and your mum and everyone after school. And after fighting for a while, this girl showed up, a little younger than me, found in the forest unconscious. When she woke up she had no memories and…and she was so helpless. I was tasked with looking after her, taking care of her, because we had bonded."

He rubbed his eyes and said, "Your mother's memories came back slowly, and we realized they'd used her as…as bait, trying to pull me back into the fold to fight for Voldemort."

Catherine gasped, looking up with wide eyes, shaking her head. Harry felt his stomach drop as he realized what must have happened. That Uncle Sirius had to turn to save Aunt Cara.

After a long hesitation, Uncle Sirius rolled up his left sleeve and showed them a faded black mark, a mark Harry recognized from textbooks as the mark of Voldemort, with a skull and a snake coming out the mouth. Catherine gasped, startled at the sight of it.

"I had to join in name," he said softly, "to keep her safe. I passed information both ways, serving Dumbledore. And then a small group of us started learning how to defeat the Dark Lord. We worked with Dumbledore and some others to undo some of the powerful Dark Magic he'd done to keep himself safe. And when it was all undone, well, it just so happened he'd discovered that Dorcas…that Rhea's mother was a spy. And I stood up for her instead of torturing her, and I was tortured in her place."

Harry looked over at Catherine, and he saw that her eyes were shining with tears. He swallowed thickly and turned his face back to Uncle Sirius, whose face had taken on a gaunt, haunted quality Harry had never seen before.

"Your mother walked by, or was looking for me. Anyway, she killed him. Ran him through with a sword. It's more complicated, but we were worried that if people knew…things would be difficult."

He ran his hand across his eyes quickly and said, "We talked to this historian who'd been digging, who was finding inconsistencies in the official story, and we decided it was time for the real truth to come forward, come what may."

Harry and Catherine sat in stunned silence as this new history sank in, as they looked at the hideous mark on Uncle Sirius's arm. Harry felt he should be crying, because Catherine and he father both were.

/-/

Howard leaned over and asked Rhea if she knew about Catherine's mother, and Rhea looked at him with an uncharacteristically severe look. He shrank back from her, expecting her to berate him, but she said nothing. Instead she just kept giving him that severe look, and he realized that he wasn't going to get an answer to his question.

He slipped away from her, sitting next to a couple of other students, including Michael Corner, who was on the Quidditch team with Rhea.

"She's sort of snapped," he said softly.

Michael nodded and said, "Terry already asked. Should have seen the look she gave him, mate. It was brutal. Sort of cool, though, right? Kitty Black's mum being a war hero and nobody even knew that she basically ended the war singlehandedly."

That wasn't really the impression Howard got from the article, but he knew better than to fight with Michael. He got surly when contradicted.

Instead the two boys debated whether to warn other students off asking Rhea questions about Madam Black, and they opted not to warn anyone. It would be far more entertaining not to warn anyone and see how far she could be pushed before she actually exploded verbally at someone.

"Does this make us terrible?" Howard asked Michael.

"Nah."

/-/

Harry felt slightly stunned as he sat down at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Many people were staring at him, perhaps to see if he knew anything he hadn't yet said, and he was entertaining the idea of going to his dormitory or going to fly, just to get away from people's eyes.

Anything to not feel the pressure of all these silent watchers.

/-/

Catherine sighed, trying to wrap her brain around the whole issue, hiding behind the massive mirror on the fourth floor. She rested her head on the cool wall, closing her eyes and trying to get the image of that hideous mark out of her mind's eye.

She felt her mirror in her pocket and she sighed, pulling it out, looking down at Harry's face.

He frowned up at her and said, "Where are you?"

"Mirror," she said, shrugging. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk somewhere without…eyes," he said, frowning. "Meet me at the Quidditch pitch?"

It seemed as good a place as any, and as much as she thought she wanted to be alone, it might be nice to have the company of someone else who knew what she knew about everything. And right now, that was only Harry.

"Be there soon," she said.

/-/

Harry sat down with Catherine on the grass of the Quidditch pitch, sitting down and looking up at the sky. It was a nice day, and the grass was even a bit springy in spite of the hardness of the ground.

"I sort of feel winded," Catherine said, laying on her back. "Like…like I don't really know what to think. There's just so much that I don't…." She sighed and shook her head, looking down at her hands.

He nodded, understanding completely. It was like the adults in their lives were people they didn't know, and they weren't sure how to deal with those emotions. He laid down beside her, looking up at the cloudy skies, feeling her hand brush his as she tried to get comfortable.

"D'you ever come here when you want to be alone?" she asked softly.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "Usually I fly."

"To clear your head?" she asked, rolling onto her side and resting her head on his chest. She didn't even ask, but he didn't really mind. All the strange, unsteady feelings he had, she probably had it times a hundred.

"Yeah."

"Does it help?"

"Mmm. Sometimes."

He didn't realize he was touching her hair until he felt it sifting through his fingers, silky and cool against his skin. She smelled sweet, a little floral.

Catherine raised her head of his chest and looked down at him, blinking thoughtfully through thick, dark lashes. He could see the turmoil behind her eyes, but he couldn't untangle it. He wanted to smooth it out just by meeting her gaze, but no matter how long he looked at her it didn't seem to make a difference.

"I shouldn't feel betrayed," she whispered. "My mum had her reasons, and they did what they did because they had to. But…"

He nodded. She couldn't help but feel betrayed, because they didn't just hide things. They'd lied. To her, to the government, to everyone. He knew she was never going to un-see the mark on her father's arm.

"D'you want to fly?" he asked. She frowned, a question in the twitch of her features. "I have my broom. I was going to go for a fly later anyway. D'you…want to join me?"

Catherine sat up, and he sat up with her, wondering when they'd moved so close together.

"I didn't bring a broom," she said, almost evasively.

"You can ride with me," he said, "like when I took Caro up."

It wouldn't be like that. It would mean something different, although what he couldn't quite find words for.

After a long hesitation, she agreed. He stood, helping her to her feet, and he retrieved his broom as she brushed the grass off her clothes and arms.

Harry held out the Firebolt for her to mount, and he climbed on behind her. He didn't usually like flying with someone else, and he'd only ridden with Caroline because he – and her parents – didn't like the idea of her on the Firebolt without him. Somehow, though, this seemed right.

He kicked off from the ground and raised them up slowly, until they were even with the seats of the Quidditch stands. Harry knew that flying over the Quidditch pitch was the safe, responsible thing to do, but it wouldn't help clear her thoughts and raise her spirits, so he leaned them forward, urging the broom to dart upward, out toward the lake. He felt her back against his chest, and he felt her sharp intake of breath as they lurched forward over the grounds. There was a delighted laugh that he heard escape her lips before they rushed out over the lake.

No, he didn't usually like sharing his broom with someone, but he was enjoying himself. He could smell her hair as it whipped across his face, could feel every breath she took as he wrapped his arms around her waist to reach the handle of the broom. The warmth that radiated off her, between their bodies especially, was a stark and comfortable contrast to the cold air rushing around them at breathless speed. They were moving so quickly that everything in the world except for Catherine was blurring at the edges, melting together in muted colors and shapes.

She might have said something, but he couldn't hear it over the wind rushing by, could only feel the vibrations of the words where his arms touched her waist. If for only this brief moment she could forget about all the eyes, all the questions, all the emotions they would have to deal with back up at the school, Harry decided it wasn't so bad to fly with Catherine. In a lot of ways, he thought without giving much consideration to what it might mean, he thought he rather preferred it to flying alone.

When they landed on the lawn, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, her usually smooth and flawless hair attractively windswept.

In the briefest instant, Harry recognized that she'd never looked more beautiful, but then he made some joke about her hair looking ridiculous, and the moment was gone with their laughter.

 **A/N: The truth, or parts of it, is out, Sirius has to face the consequences, and Harry and Catherine comfort each other. Hope y'all have enjoyed the influx of bonus chapters!**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly reminder to let me know if you want a Part 3! Also, how d'you think Sirius handled the whole mess of telling the children? And who do you think took things harder, Jason or Caroline?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is Harry going to become the next Tom Riddle? (AvinaNox)**

 **A: Hahaha, tempting as that would be, NO. Harry does echo another character, but it's NOT Voldemort. Fun as that would be.**

 **-C**


	54. A Minor Victory

**A/N: I see how to get reviews…. Poll you guys! So far, the vote for a Part 3 is unanimous, and the influx of chapters has earned a THIRD bonus for this week! Want more after this? Five more reviews gets us a record FOURTH bonus for the week!**

 **-C**

Lily rubbed her temples, looking over the equations that she'd promised to examine more thoroughly. The new the potion worked, they knew it had a neutral (some reported even pleasant) taste, but was it as effective, and could it be produced in a reasonable timeframe for the people who needed it?

She looked over Remus's notes and thoughts, and then smiled to herself as she realized that they'd done it.

They'd not only made Wolfsbane drinkable, they somehow managed to increase the potency by ten percent, so much that Remus could conceivably leave his quarters unlocked and have students come pet him, and he would be no danger to them.

She began writing her report on the documents eagerly, elaborating on the formula and equations in detail, not realizing for perhaps quite some time that James was watching her work, grinning. She looked up when he set tea in front of her.

"I know that look," he said fondly. "Something good has happened."

"I think we've cracked it," she said, thanking him after taking a long drink of the perfect cup of tea. Sometimes, she really loved James more than she could possibly express. He could be so thoughtful. "I think we've fixed Wolfsbane."

"Really?" he asked eagerly, sitting across from her, letting her explain how it worked.

She knew that his understanding of her work was limited, but he always listened attentively, as though he fully understood every word. What he did understand, she knew, was that Remus's suffering was over. With a mild pain potion – or even a minor sedative – Remus would feel nothing with this new Wolfsbane, would taste nothing unpleasant, and would feel no murderous urges.

"Lily, this is amazing," he said, and she could see he was near tears at the realization that they'd accomplished it. "He'll be…he'll be okay."

"I only wish I thought of it sooner," she said sadly. "All these years, all his many months of transformation, and we're only now getting to it."

James kissed her hands and said, "Lily, it doesn't matter how long it took. You've just changed everything for those who are bitten, and if there's no urge to bite, there don't have to be any more werewolves."

She hadn't thought of it that way. If they could get this distributed around the world, the whole condition could be eradicated. There wouldn't be any more children to stigmatize, because what stigma could there be for something so easily contained?

She frowned, realizing that there were things that would need to be done once she could establish this in Britain, and before she could say a word, James said, "When Harry's graduated, love, you go anywhere you need to go to get it done. But let's let him get settled first."

"Of course!" she said, having thought the same thing. "But I just feel that there's so much we could do if we could only educate the communities. Remus has some contacts on the continent. I could start there."

Suddenly, everything just seemed bright.

/-/

After her last Quidditch match of the year, Rhea supposed she didn't mind that Ravenclaw lost the Cup to Gryffindor. From what everyone had said, it had just been a matter of waiting for Gryffindor to win ever since Harry joined the team, and something strange had always happened to keep them from it. From the way Oliver Wood cried when he held the Cup in his hands, it was pretty clear it meant the world to him.

She could try again next year, but Wood was graduating.

"Are you upset?" Catherine asked as she walked Rhea back up to the castle after the match.

"Maybe I should be," Rhea said levelly, "but that Firebolt is so quick."

"Yeah, it really is," Catherine said, and when Rhea gave her a questioning look, Catherine just blushed and said no more on the subject. Instead, she turned to who was going to win the House Cup, and if either of their Houses had a realistic chance. In truth, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were really tight, and Rhea thought it might come down to the wire, but she said nothing so as not to insult Hufflepuff.

/-/

Lily and Dorcas reviewed the application twice before Dorcas declared it complete and promised to file it the following day.

"I can't wait to tell Remus," Lily said happily. "I've told Sirius to make him ride the train back so I can tell him in London when we pick up Harry. I want it all to be a big event."

"That sounds lovely," Dorcas said, nodding thoughtfully. "I think I can get this rushed through so you can hand him a copy of the approval by then."

Lily grinned. It was perfect. She knew Dorcas would understand just how important this was to Remus, the ability to have complete freedom over his mind and urges, to not feel the excruciating pain of transformation, to not feel as though taking medication every time he drank the potion.

"Now I just need to focus on a complete cure," Lily said, half-joking.

Wolfsbane was a treatment, but Remus and the others who took it still had to undergo the transformation every month. They still needed monthly potions, and they still suffered some of the instability that their condition could lead to, even with Dorcas's great efforts to remove the social stigmas. But to reverse lycanthropy, to completely remove the condition from a person…. It might take the rest of Lily's life to accomplish, but she would throw herself at it nonetheless. No one deserved to suffer through that experience.

"I heard Harry won the Quidditch Cup," Dorcas said, putting the application in a file and setting it on top of several others on her desk.

"Yes, my great apologies to Rhea," Lily said sadly. "James saw her play; said she was stunning. Very graceful."

"She gets it from her father," Dorcas said happily. "You know, she doesn't talk about it much, but I think she just very much enjoys an excuse to fly."

Lily didn't really understand that, but James and Harry were the same way, so she could respect it and recognize it. Their flying was also terribly personal, and Lily would never dream of asking them about it. That Harry had even taken Caroline on his new broom was something of a marvel.

"Still, I get the sense that everyone sort of expected Gryffindor to win," Dorcas continued, smoothing a bit of pale hair from her face. "I think Rhea won't take it too hard. Who knows? There's always next year."

"Yes, there is," Lily said with a solemn nod, although she wondered if it would do much good the next year. "Are you taking them to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"I think Fabian would tie us up and drag us there if I didn't," Dorcas said, amused that Lily had even bothered to ask the question. The women laughed, although it had only been half a joke.

/-/

Aeson sat down with Brontes on one of their last days without their sister at home before the summer began, and he looked up at a flock of birds just startled out of a nearby tree.

"D'you reckon it's cool that Auntie Cara killed somebody?"

"No," Brontes said, not sharply.

"Caro and I think it's sort of cool."

Brontes's nostrils flared.

"It obviously causes Auntie Cara distress to remember it, so I don't suggest you mention that you think it's cool to her, or in front of her."

Aeson blinked at his brother with surprise. Rarely was Brontes so forceful about anything, but this seemed to have him fired up, and so Aeson said he wouldn't, not that he had planned to, and looked back over to the tree. All the birds were gone.

"D'you reckon she'd kill somebody else?"

"Change the topic."

Aeson sighed and said, "D'you think Caro would kill somebody?"

Brontes growled and said, "If you don't stop talking about it, Aeson, I'll probably kill you in your sleep. Has Mother finished with the preparations to Adra's room for when she comes home?"

Aeson nodded, but he left soon after. If Brontes was set on being boring, that was his own business. No need to ruin Aeson's day with his sullenness.

/-/

Draco wasn't surprised to be assaulted by Gryffindor trappings once again when he arrived at the final feast, especially after they won the Quidditch Cup. He was too busy trying not to feel bitter about Hermione Granger beating him, once again, on the exams. He really thought the practical Defense Against the Dark Arts exam would work in his favor, but it hadn't seemed to make much of a difference.

"Makes you feel a bit sick, doesn't it?" Pansy said with a sniff.

Daphne agreed with her, but Astoria Greengrass said nothing, and Draco found himself looking at her, wondering what went through her head when Pansy said such things.

/-/

Ourania poked her face into Cora's room and said, "Hey, when d'you reckon you'll get your letter?"

Cora looked up with a suspicious look on her face, closing her book with a snap.

"Why?"

"No reason," Ourania said a little too quickly, giving her most innocent smile. Cora's eyes narrowed and she stood, crossing the room with surprising purpose, and walking straight into the corridor, leading Ourania to Damon's room.

"Why does Ourania want to know when I'm getting my letter?" Cora demanded, without a word of greeting.

Damon didn't look up as he said, "She wants an idea of when she has to have your blue jumper mended before you notice she took it."

"Traitor!" Ourania cried, frowning at her twin.

/-/

Lily turned the approval over in her hands several times before James put a hand on her shoulder to signal that people were beginning to come through the barrier.

"Sirius said he got him to agree, right?" she asked, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

"I told you six times, love," James said, amused. "He'll be here."

It seemed to take forever. Lily was sure it never took so long when she was coming home from school. How many students were there at Hogwarts, anyway, she thought bitterly, nearly rolling the approval in her need to have something to do with her hands. Instead she pulled it at the corners to be certain it was flat. It was a copy, but that wouldn't matter to Remus.

"There," James said softly, grinning.

Sirius and Remus were obvious first, with Catherine and Harry in tow, chatting away as if they'd never fought before. Lily sighed with slight relief and waved at her son as the four made their way across.

"Sirius," James said, shaking his best friend's hand. "Cara and the kids are at the Manor already, like you suggested. She didn't feel up to all the eyes."

With a nod, Sirius sighed and kissed Lily's cheek.

"I brought him," he said with a wink, "kicking and screaming as you said."

"What's all this about, then?" Remus said, smiling gently. "Not that I didn't enjoying a ride with you all on the Express, and watching Kitty and Harry pelt each other with jelly beans, but I do believe you must have called me here for a reason."

Lily grinned and handed him the approval, which he blinked at, turning it over before trying to read any of it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Oh, just read it, Moony, honestly," James said, laughing.

As Remus read, his eyes went wider and wider, until his jaw finally dropped.

"Uncle Remus, you look absurd," Catherine said boldly, and Harry snorted.

"Sorry," Remus said, laughing. "Lily, this isn't what I think it is."

"Depends on what you think it is," she said cheekily.

He looked at her with tears forming, causing his eyes to glisten as he pulled her into a hug. She could feel that he was trembling slightly, and she said nothing as she held him, patting his shoulder and letting him squeeze her.

"I can't believe you've done all this," he said, wiping his eyes quickly as he pulled away. "This must have…. Lily, this is incredible."

"What is it?" Catherine asked, eyeing the approval with interest.

"Your Aunt Lily," Remus said with unmistakable pride in his voice, "has just made the biggest Potions breakthrough of the age. A near-perfect treatment for my condition, Kitty. I'll be docile as a duck."

"Have you ever actually met a duck?" Catherined asked coolly, unfazed by the news. "Some of them are monstrous."

Remus just laughed and said, "Yes, yes, yes. It hardly matters. Oh, Lily, this is really quite perfect."

/-/

Cara smoothed her skirts as she talked to Dobby, waiting for everyone to arrive from King's Cross. She hated not being there to see her daughter home this year, but she had no interest in being gawked at so soon after the book had become a bestseller.

"Mistress wishes to have a special meal prepared before the Cup?" Dobby asked cheerfully.

"Oh, yes," Cara said, smiling. She hadn't thought of the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had gotten them box seats and he was so terribly excited about it. She supposed in the box she wouldn't have to see as many people as if she were in the regular stands.

"What does Mistress want for the meal?" Dobby asked.

She liked Dobby. Between Dobby and Kreacher, they seemed to do her thinking for her on most menial tasks, and she appreciated that she could leave things in their hands and trust things to be done right and well.

"Whatever you think best, Dobby," she said, feeling brighter as she thought of something she'd been meaning to ask. "Has Winky thought of a name for the baby?"

"Not yet, Mistress," he said happily. "Master has said that the baby will be trained to replace Kreacher in his age, however, and that the next will be sent to France."

"Yes, and if you don't mind having a third," she said, smiling, "there's always the cottage."

Dobby flushed slightly and said, "Dobby is not minding, Mistress."

She would have laughed, but it seemed unkind, so she just smiled.

/-/

Remus went back to the castle and collapsed on his bed, staring at his bedside table where he kept all kinds of salves and pastes and potions to help recover from his monthly nightmare. What would it be like to go through the full moon, transform, and still not need any of these things? What would it be to be so docile he never had to worry about what might happen if a student was out of bed too close to his office?

He rubbed his eyes and smiled to himself, trying not to feel too excited about it. Of course, it would be more expensive to produce, but Severus would make it for him, or Lily. And it wouldn't be available to everyone right away, but it was a step forward, such an important step forward, and it felt something like a victory.

/-/

Brontes sat down at the dinner table and didn't bother looking at Adrasteia. She would pout all summer, and he knew it. She would be bitter about his joining her at Hogwarts, because she would no longer be special for being the only one of them who got to go. He wondered what she would think when Aeson got his letter, how he would react.

"Mother," Brontes said softly, "will we be going to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Of course, dear," she said, without any warmth in her voice. "We have a plot next to the Malfoys."

Well, at least they would be going.

/-/

Harry watched his father pour a glass of champagne for his mother, and he wondered what Catherine was doing, if she and her mother were having a talk about all the things that happened over the year, if the Blacks were also celebrating the news.

He thought about calling her, but if she was in the middle of a talk with her mother, he didn't want to ruin it. She would call him, when she was ready.

"Dad, can I take a walk to the church?" he asked. His father frowned slightly and glanced up at Harry's mother, who nodded.

Harry had considered flying, but it was late and he felt surprisingly tired. He pulled on a jacket and walked out to the high street, hearing a few small children laughing somewhere up the street.

For the first time in his life, he was curious about his neighbors. He'd never really given much thought to them because they weren't like him, weren't like the Blacks, or the Longbottoms, or the Malfoys. Was that conceited, he wondered? For all he knew, the next Hermione Granger was in one of these houses, and no one knew it yet. Who was he to dismiss them so easily?

But he'd never needed to wonder about his neighbors. He slipped his hands in his coat pockets, not because he was cool, but for something to do as he heard one of the children squeal with a particularly violent peel of laughter. No, he'd not needed to wonder, because he had so many interesting people in his age group to concern himself with, because of his parents' group of friends.

Like Neville and Catherine, mostly. Draco sometimes, but he'd have been happy with no one to occupy himself with except for Neville and Catherine. He wondered what this said about him, that he was so easily distracted, so easily satisfied.

"Excuse me?" a young woman's voice said. He stopped and turned to her. "Sorry, it's just that I'm not from around here and I'm meant to meet my cousin. Can you tell me how to get to Rose Cottage?"

He knew the place, mostly because it was near the church. He gestured up the high street and said, "It's that way, about a half a dozen houses before the church. If I've reached the graveyard, you've missed it. There's a placard on the house, but not by the street."

The woman thanked him, and he nodded, wondering who lived in Rose Cottage, what their story was, and who this cousin was. If she wasn't from here, where was she from?

Because, he realized for perhaps the first time in his life, everyone was from somewhere. And everyone had a story.

 **A/N: So, Remus gets a precious gift, another year is wrapped up, and Harry is starting to grow up.**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly reminder, let me know your vote on a Part 3 or no Part 3! Also, which house would you rather grow up in: Grimmauld Place (with Cara's remodeling), Selwyn Manor, the Potters' Godric's Hollow house, the Burrow, or the Lovegood…thing. Personally, I'm torn between Selwyn Manor and Grimmauld Place, leaning toward the manor. Old houses are such a treat to a burgeoning imagination.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Have you ever considered posting your stories on AO3? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Ah. Yes. Well, I have considered it, for sure. I'd be remiss not to, given how many people have jumped ship altogether for this newer site. I've read some stories on AO3, but I don't use it as a reader with any regularity. And I'll explain my thinking on why I'm not likely to use it as an author.**

 **I understand it's got plusses. There's more flexibility with lemons and smut on AO3, which is obviously appealing to authors like me. Also, I've been told a lot of readers like the layout better/find it easier. I'm personally not drawn to that layout over this one. I'm also a creature of habit, and I've been writing stories here for a LONG time, and reading even longer. I don't think I'd ever pack up and leave, especially with the sheer VOLUME of stories I've got here, and I don't want to juggle between two sites. I'm also not a big fan of the whole tags thing. Especially with the upgrades FF has done to the search filters, I'm really happy here.**

 **Long story short, no, I'll probably not be hopping on to AO3 any time soon, but I'm not ruling it out in the long term. Things change, and if it becomes a more attractive option, or even a necessary option, I promise to do everything I can to do a complete shift, should that day come, so that nothing gets lost in the transition.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	55. The Quidditch World Cup

**A/N: Okay, guys, I'm seriously impressed. Think we can make a fifth bonus? You're only nine reviews away, and DAYS left to do it!**

 **-C**

Neville leaned over the table at the Potter's and said to Catherine, "He looks way too pleased up there, doesn't he?"

"Always," she said, rolling her eyes.

He laughed, knowing that she didn't really have any serious qualms with Harry being proud on his birthday, but he knew that being fourteen wasn't much of an accomplishment. He'd been fourteen for a day and he didn't feel any different.

It would be interesting, Neville thought, to have Cora Prewett and Jason and Brontes at Hogwarts in the fall, and Neville wondered where they would fall into the bigger picture of the social circles. Brontes wouldn't be any part of them, but Jason and Cora might.

"Neville!" Harry called from the other side of the table. "Neville, we need to play this game tonight before you go."

He held up the new edition of gobstones, and Neville gave his mother a questioning look. She nodded her approval that they would stay long enough for the boys to play a round.

"Are you going to the match, Neville?" Catherine asked, sitting down to watch them play, even though she wasn't particularly interested in gobstones.

"Ah, no, Mum and Dad have to work because the office is basically cleaned out," he said, shrugging. "Gran doesn't really want to go, and to be honest I'm not that into the crowds and stuff. Will you get me a souvenir?"

"Sure thing," she said, passing him a piece of chocolate, which he eagerly accepted. "Harry and his family are going to be in our box. The Weasleys and the Malfoys are going to be in the Minister's box, weirdly. Daddy's going to let the Prewetts sit in our box, too. Is that all, Harry?"

"Lestranges," Harry said, setting up his half of the board. "We have to listen to Adra be…Adra. If she deigns to go."

Catherine hummed her acknowledgement, and Neville finished his own set-up.

"How are things with your Mum?" Harry asked, his voice a kind of forced casual. Neville was curious too, but he knew better than to ask. Pretty much the only person who could get away with pressing Catherine on things she didn't want to talk about was Harry.

"Oh, they've been worse, for sure," she said, shrugging. "I think I understand why they didn't tell us. She told me Daddy's really upset about the things he had to do, and that he was afraid that if we knew, we'd look at him differently."

That seemed reasonable to Neville. He didn't know how she couldn't look at him differently, just knowing that he had a Dark Mark on his arm. Yes, he was still the coolest professor ever, and yes he was still probably the coolest parent ever, but he'd done some terrible things. He'd done them for good reasons, but he'd done terrible, terrible things.

"Have you talked to him?"

"Not yet," she said, frowning. "I don't know how to say it in a way he'll understand, you know? I think I'll tell him after the Cup. Ireland's bound to win, and that'll put him in a good mood."

Neville raised his eyebrows and said, "But the Bulgarians have Krum."

Harry and Catherine looked at him like he was simple, then exchanged frustrated and superior glances, and looked down at the board. Perhaps they thought the Firebolts made the difference, or something. He decided he'd ask Ginny or Rhea what the big deal was in his next letter. They'd tell him without judgement, and all he'd get from these two was judgement, clearly.

"I don't know how they make these work with crystal," Neville said, impressed with the gobstone construction.

Catherine's lips tightened with amusement, and Neville decided he didn't care what she thought about the change of topic. It worked for him.

/-/

Dean tossed a Quaffle at his father, grinning. He couldn't believe they'd gotten tickets to the Quidditch World Cup and not told him. Surely his father must have bought the tickets ages ago, and still hadn't told him about it.

"These must have cost a fortune," he said when his father tossed the Quaffle back.

"Well worth it," his father said with a shrug. "Granted, there will be some cutting back for your mum and me, but it's worth it."

Dean knew that cutbacks meant his father would probably not be going to away matches for West Ham this season, but perhaps that wouldn't work out so bad. He drank too much when he went to matches.

"I'm proud of you, Dean," his father said, sitting down on the sofa. Dean collapse in an armchair. "You've done well in your classes, even with the extra classes added in. That's not easy, whatever the other kids say."

Dean didn't think he'd accomplished anything special. He looked at some of his classmates and it seemed as though he was something of a failure as a student. He rubbed his eyes and said his thanks for the compliment, but the words did make him feel good in spite of not fully believing them.

/-/

It felt like the crack of dawn when Harry was awoken by his father, told to hurry up and throw the last few things in his rucksack and come to breakfast. Harry didn't bother checking the time. If it really was the crack of dawn, he didn't want to know.

He did as told, changing and throwing a few things in the rucksack he'd packed the night before. He combed his fingers absently through his hair as he slumped into the kitchen for breakfast. It wasn't fair that his father could be so chipper while he felt like he was still asleep, but then his mother didn't look very tired, either.

Maybe it was an adult thing.

"We're taking a Portkey from Selwyn Manor," his father said. "We're using our tent, though, and Sirius has one for the womenfolk."

Harry's mother snorted, but said nothing. She simply sipped her tea while Harry tried to eat. He was so tired he kept missing his face, but eventually he ate all his food.

/-/

Rolland Harper wasn't going to the Quidditch World Cup, so he decided it would be most prudent to use the time he wasn't spending on sport to get his things from Diagon Alley.

"It'll be practically empty," he argued to his mother, and she could certainly see the logic in that.

Getting all the things he needed for third year was a great deal more complicated, as book lists hadn't been released yet, and Flourish and Blotts wasn't saying what was expected.

"I suppose we'll have to make a trip back," his mother said, frowning. "I wonder why they haven't sent out the lists."

Rolland wondered, too.

/-/

Adrasteia walked to the kitchen, frowning and pouting slightly at her brothers. Honestly, why would anyone want to wake up so early?

"You didn't have to be up, Adra," her father said, raising his eyebrows with mild surprise. "If you're not going, you don't have to wake up."

"Aeson was quite loud on the stairwell," she said with a sniff, "and I couldn't go back to bed. Are you going with the Blacks?"

"No, they're taking the Potters on their Portkey," her father said, buttering a piece of toast and setting it on a plate for her. "I'm Apparating the boys with me."

Adrasteia sniffed as she watched Aeson gobble up his food eagerly. She had thought about going, but to have to sit in a box with Catherine and Harry Potter would be a bit of an affront to her, she felt, so she had decided not to go. She didn't really care for Quidditch, anyway.

"What are you going to do with your time, Adra?" Brontes asked politely.

"I'll probably sketch the gardens," she said proudly, ignoring Aeson's snort.

Admittedly, Adrasteia wasn't particularly good with sketching, but her mother said she was showing significant improvement, which was all Adrasteia really needed to hear to keep doing it. She pressed her fingers around her fork, determined, as eggs were slipped onto her plate. She couldn't be bothered what Aeson thought of her artwork, since he had absolutely no ability to do anything artistic himself.

"Could you bring me a souvenir, Father?" she asked when she finished her toast.

"Of course," he said, sitting down with his own tea. "What would you like?"

"Something pretty."

Even Brontes snorted this time, but she ignored them. There had to be some pretty things at Quiddtich matches, especially ones of this magnitude. And her father would certainly find it. This would be a great event, perhaps one of the greatest sporting events of her lifetime, and she certainly wasn't going to miss out on an opportunity to pretend she was there later in life, depending on how the match turned out.

She finished her breakfast in agitated silence, and she gave her father a kiss on the cheek before leaving, not saying any words of parting to her brothers.

She gathered up her sketchbook and went outside, since the weather was nice and she couldn't possibly go back to sleep, she might as well get started early. She settled down on the stone bench near the fountain and looked around for the best thing to sketch from this vantage point. Perhaps if it turned out well, she though pleasantly, her mother would paint a version of it for her, as the painting would be much better to put on a wall or give as a gift than a silly sketch.

After about twenty minutes, she heard her brothers cheering about something, and then she heard the crack of Apparition moments later.

For that brief moment, she was jealous that they were doing something and she was missing out. Still, she would be rested and they would likely be miserable when all their adrenaline wore off.

/-/

Neville curled up in his father's armchair with a book, not really knowing what it was except that it was by Dickens (the cover had been ripped off from years of wear and tear) and that he'd not read it yet. His parents had just left for work, and he knew his friends would either be at the World Cup or would be arriving their shortly. He wondered if Harry or Catherine had ever been camping at all, and he marveled at the idea of them trying to figure out how to enjoy the experience.

Granted, camping as a wizard couldn't be as bad as the stories of camping as a Muggle, but he didn't think lighting fires without magic sounded like very much fun.

The book began with a very long sentence – an entire paragraph that was one massive sentence. For being a bit convoluted, he supposed the start was alright. It winded and twisted around, but what he thought he understood was that it was taking place during a time just after the American Revolution. Given his limited knowledge of literature, he supposed this book was probably _A Tale of Two Cities_ , which was on the list of books his grandmother thought he needed to have read before coming of age. Satisfied he was using his time productively, he curled up, pulled a blanket from a nearby sofa, and carefully turned the pages to see how long the first chapter was. As it wasn't very long, he resolved to read two chapters before taking a break for a snack, and maybe some tea.

/-/

Catherine watched as her father and Uncle James set up the two tents, sitting with Harry on a log in their campsite.

"So you'll be in the smaller tent," he said, smiling. "And Jason and I will be with our fathers. Who's getting the top bunk?"

Catherine rolled her eyes and said, "Well, obviously Caroline. What about you lot? Are you in a top bunk?"

"Actually," Harry said with a laugh, "our dads are taking the bunk beds. So Jason and I get the normal beds to ourselves." He hesitated. "They're not really going to make us cook over a fire, are they?"

With a shrug, Catherine said, "We're Blacks and Potters, Harry. They can't make us do anything. Did you see the peacock the Malfoys brought?"

/-/

Luna put a cup in front of her frantically writing father, and she was startled when he looked up at her, urgency in his eyes.

"Do you think," he said, "that they're recruiting for the Ministry at Hogwarts?"

She shrugged and said, "Probably. A lot of the seventh years go into Ministry careers after school."

Of course, she didn't say out loud, that could be because there were usually more positions available in the Ministry than other fields.

Her father nodded, happily, though, which told her than her supposition had been precisely what he wanted to hear.

/-/

Rhea sat with her siblings and parents and cousins for lunch, and she was trying very hard not to laugh as the twins solicited Ludo Bagman for a bet on the match. She knew full well why they thought Ireland would win even if Krum would catch the Snitch (and she'd be more than a little bit surprised if Krum didn't catch the Snitch). In fact, it was the conversation she'd had with them while setting up the tents that sealed their view on the matter. She reminded them that Ireland had the Firebolts, while the Bulgarian team were still running on an early Nimbus model. It was a good broom, but nothing on the Firebolt.

"Don't tell your mother you were gambling," Uncle Arthur said, pale, when Ludo Bagman left.

Of course, it didn't seem wise to Rhea that they bet their entire savings, but she knew they were so passionate about setting up a joke shop, and so averse to accepting charity, that they saw this as their opportunity to raise suitable capital to open a shop.

"Hey, tell Kitty thanks for us, will you?" George said with a wink.

Rhea and Ginny both narrowed their eyes Ginny said, "What for?"

"She'll know," Fred said, grinning.

That didn't sit well with either girl, but they said that they would tell her. They then left to get water for cleaning the dishes, walking to the spigot on the map.

"What d'you reckon that was about?" Rhea asked.

"I think Kitty must have subsidized their bet somehow," Ginny said, frowning. "Only she couldn't have, could she? Because that's their whole savings, down to the last Knut. And I don't know that she would have planned on them betting with the head of Magical Games and Sports over the outcome of the match."

"She knew they wanted to bet on the match, though," Rhea said reasonably. "We all did."

The girls exchanged a dark look, wondering what Catherine could have done and hoping that if things went south with the bet, Catherine would be able to fish the twins out of the mess.

"He doesn't have the most brilliant of reputations, does he?" Rhea asked as they stood in the queue for the spigot. "Only, Mum was telling Dad the other day that Ludo has…history."

"History?" Ginny asked, frowning. "Wonder what that means. Dad says he's not great at his job, not terribly organized, but he's a nice guy."

Rhea nodded. He did seem like a nice sort of guy, as far as that went, but if he wasn't very good that meant he'd been given the position of Department Head because of his name, his history in Quidditch. Yes, he understood Quidditch, and yes having him around to be the commentator for this kind of thing was good, but there was so much more to being Head of a Department, even his department, than being able to commentate a Quidditch Match.

"Have you seen any of the Bulgarians?" Ginny asked grinning. "There's a whole bunch of them a few rows down from Seamus's family, and there's some really fit guys."

Rhea rolled her eyes, wishing the queue were half as long. She really didn't want to be subjected to boy-crazy talk when there were so many things to think about. She wanted to know what Catherine and the twins were up to, she wanted to know what Ludo's history was, and she wanted to know where she could get one of those talking shamrocks that said the names of the Ireland players because they were just about the coolest thing ever.

/-/

Caroline held her father's hand as they climbed the many, many steps up to the box they'd procured for the match. She could feel her heart beating in her ears as she sat down between her father and her brother, squeezing her father's hand happily. She knew he wasn't thinking about her specifically, especially as he was so pleased with the whole match and all its pageantry.

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, smiling at her.

How did she explain how she was feeling? Her stomach was spinning in circles, her heart was pounding so violently it hurt her ears, and her whole body was covered in sweat.

"Good, good," she said nervously. "Jason, will you bring me something back from school? I'll be so terribly bored without you."

He seemed puzzled for a moment, not connecting his question to her with her answer to him, but after a moment he smiled and said, "Of course I will, Caro. Who d'you reckon's going to win?"

"Viktor Krum, obviously," she said with a snort.

He was no doubt about to tell her that Krum wasn't a team by himself, but he shook his head, smiled, and turned his attention to his program. Caroline hadn't even opened hers. She was too busy trying to calm her nerves.

"Daddy," Catherine said on the other side of her father, "can I have some of the sweets we brought?"

"Of course, love," he said, pulling up the rucksack they'd stuffed with sweets before coming up to the match. Because he had a box (and perhaps because of who he was) they didn't search the rucksack. Catherine handed Caroline a bar of Honeyduke's Best, Catherine's favorite. The touching gesture was not lost on the excited Caroline, who thanked her sister with a smile.

 **A/N: So, the Quidditch World Cup is on, Neville dabbles in classic literature, and Adra decides it's better to say you were there than actually go.**

 **Review Prompt: Don't forget, you can vote on whether we'll have a Part 3 or not, the results to be announced in Ch. 61! Also, top or bottom bunk? I was always a top bunk girl in my youth, but I'd take the bottom now.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will that last stranger become important? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: This is in reference to the young woman who asks Harry for directions at the end of Ch. 54.**

 **Erm, no, not really. She serves a purpose in making Harry think about his surroundings, but she doesn't pop up again.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	56. Brave New World

**A/N: This FIFTH bonus chapter is dedicated to reader** _ **EmilyRae92,**_ **whose reviews have been instrumental in the recent influx of bonus chapters these last couple of weeks.**

 **-C**

Aeson rolled his eyes as he heard his father talking about the match with his brother. It was something of a talking point, he supposed, that Ireland won in spite of Viktor Krum catching the Snitch. The papers would certainly have a field day about it, but Aeson really didn't care. He curled up in his bed in the tent and tried to get some sleep in spite of the hideously loud celebrations of the Irish.

"Rabastan!"

Aeson sat up, frowning at his brother. Brontes raised his eyebrows, with that mild expression of curiosity. He opened his mouth, perhaps to ask his father who would be shouting into their tent, but their father shook his head and stepped out.

"Lucius," they heard their father say, in his smoothest voice reserved for social occasions with people he didn't want to speak to. "What are you doing out like this?"

"I brought them, Rabastan. We can have some fun, you know. Like the old days."

The pause after these words were chilling to Aeson. He wasn't totally sure what Uncle Lucius meant by that, but knowing that the old days were probably when they were Death Eaters together, it didn't seem like something that was a very wise idea with Ministry crawling all about.

"Lucius, you're drunk. Go back to your wife and forget about this. I thought she had these destroyed."

"I managed to save a couple."

"Well, give them to me and I'll destroy them."

"Have you forgotten everything? Have you so easily been turned soft? Think of the power we had, Rabastan. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Brontes and Aeson exchanged a glance and tiptoed closer to the door to hear what their father would say in reply. As they had suspected, their father had lowered his voice, dangerously low, and he said, "Don't you dare tell me you want those days back, Lucius. Sirius Black has a mark on his arm as a daily reminder of what he had to do to buy my sister's safety, buy her life. He would have killed Cara if he'd known she was pregnant, just to get rid of threats to his power. You talk about power, Lucius? You didn't have it then! Sirius, Bellatrix, even Snape. They were all above us, and your wife's thinking is the only thing that saved you from a life in Azkaban. I'm taking these, and I'm destroying them, and that's final. Now go sober up, for Merlin's sake, and forget about these stupid notions!"

They quickly retreated back to their original positions as their father swept back into the tent, but he was too preoccupied to notice that they'd moved or shifted at all. He was sweeping something quickly into his pocket, and Aeson could only see the glint of silver under his father's hand before whatever it was settled into the pocket without further image or comment.

"Go to bed, boys," their father said, with a surprisingly harsh and short tone. "I need to have words with your Uncle Sirius. I'll be back soon, and I expect you to be asleep when I return."

/-/

School started very soon after the Quidditch World Cup, and Damon walked into Kings Cross with his mother and sisters, his father up front pushing the carts.

"You'll do just fine, Cora," their mother was saying. "Are you going to sit with Rhea and her friends on the train, or make some new friends?"

Cora shook her head and said, "Jason Black said he'd sit with me. I…think he said his cousin would be with us."

"Brontes?" Ourania said, horrified. "But he's…a Slytherin."

"He's not been Sorted yet," Damon said softly.

"He's a nice boy," their mother said firmly. "They're both very nice boys. I'm sure you'll make some new friends, too. Just…try to stay out of detention."

Damon looked up and saw Rhea's ears go red at this not-so-subtle reference to her involvement in the prank shenanigans of her friends two years prior. Cora just nodded her understanding.

/-/

On the train, Draco found Blaise easily, and Crabbe and Goyle were already there. Draco was momentarily worried that Pansy and Daphne would see the empty spaces and decide to fill them, but Astoria Greengrass came in moments after him, dragging Adrasteia Lestrange with her.

"We're sitting here," Astoria said serenely.

"By all means," Blaise said, although he frowned slightly at Adrasteia. Whatever the weirdness was between them, Draco decided he was just going to ignore it unless it became a problem. He had enough going on in his life without policing Blaise's awkward social life.

"Who's starting this year, then?" Blaise asked lazily as the train took off. "Anybody we care about?"

Draco nodded and said, "Adra's brother Brontes is probably going to be in Slytherin. Kitty's brother Jason's a possibility."

"He's likely to be a Ravenclaw," Adrasteia said, sniffing. "Both of them, I imagine. I suppose that's not as bad as it could be."

In a very soft voice, Astoria said, "There's a Rosier being Sorted this year. Sandra Rosier. She'll be in Slytherin."

Draco looked at Astoria and nodded thoughtfully. He couldn't figure out what it was about this girl, but she puzzled him. He would look at her sometimes and think there was wisdom in her eyes, dizzyingly beyond her real age. He felt that if he asked her a question, any question, she would be able to calmly supply him with the answer.

"That's something, then," Draco said, glancing out the window and licking his lips. The city of London was still easily visible, but soon enough they would be moving out to suburban regions that were technically not part of the city.

They sat in near-silence for some time before Draco saw Astoria pull out a book, and Adrasteia roll her eyes. He wasn't sure what it was about Adrasteia in books, but he thought it might have something to do with Catherine Black and all her Ravenclaw friends. Adrasteia had always been easily bored, but Catherine being stolen away by new friends in Ravenclaw was probably the last straw against books and reading.

While Draco didn't particularly mind Adrasteia, he knew from watching his mother and some of her social contacts that a woman who read would make an infinitely preferable life partner. They were almost always more accomplished at other things, more capable of making arrangements around the house, and much less likely to become bored enough to sleep with someone else.

Adrasteia Lestrange was probably the second-to-last woman on earth he would ever marry, and Draco had known that for many years.

/-/

At Hogsmeade station, Astoria walked to a carriage with the others, and she ignored her sister and Pansy.

In truth, she felt sorry for Draco, chased around by harpies who were only interested in his gold. He wasn't even of age yet, and already girls were vying for a chance to court him. She found the whole idea bizarre, and slightly despicable. Even Adrasteia seemed to be interested, although Astoria had yet to ascertain whether she had her sights on Draco or Blaise. Perhaps Adrasteia wasn't certain, herself.

The carriage ride was calm, uneventful all the way up to the castle. Blaise was ignoring Adrasteia every time she tried to speak, so eventually she stopped speaking. Astoria was quiet by nature, and it seemed that Draco and Blaise had said everything they felt comfortable saying in front of the girls and thus had nothing else they could say until they reached the safety and privacy of their own dormitory.

"I suppose the first years will have a time of it," Draco finally said as the castle came into view. "All this rain. I can't imagine what it would be to cross the lake in this."

Astoria hummed her agreement and Blaise nodded. Adrasteia opened her mouth to speak, but then the carriage came to a stop and she swallowed her words with a frown at the prospect of traversing to the entrance in the downpour.

/-/

Hermione settled at the Gryffindor table, trying to dry her hair, and she overheard Colin Creevey chattering excitedly with Ginny about his brother, Dennis, who was going to be Sorted this year. Hermione wondered what that would be like, having a sibling to join her in the Muggle world, some sort of anchor between the two worlds, to keep things from blurring strangely at the edges.

She understood its importance and significance and seriousness, but sometimes Hermione truly hated the Statute of Secrecy.

/-/

Sirius had a very hard time not laughing at the sight of the first years as they walked in. Jason was standing with Brontes and Cora, and they had a couple of other boys with them, including one who called out to Colin and said, "I fell in!"

Colin grinned and gave him a thumbs up and Sirius turned his face toward Remus and said, "Please tell me I can laugh."

"Don't you dare," Remus said sternly, but the corners of his lips were twitching as well.

Minerva managed to maintain her cool sternness and Sirius sat up straighter, focusing on the hat as it sang.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Sirius clapped politely as the boy joined the Ravenclaw table, looking mildly relieved.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

Just one look at the boy and Sirius knew that the Hat would (and then did) yell, "SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius watched the boy settle in toward the end of the Slytherin table, welcomed with a nod by Draco. Sirius scratched his nose after clapping.

/-/

Severus could feel Sirius's tension as they waited for his son to be Sorted. While Sirius was exceptionally proud of Catherine, they all knew he desperately wanted at least one of his children to be a Gryffindor. Caroline seemed to best bet to Severus, but both could conceivably be placed there.

"Black, Jason!"

Catherine perked up almost comically, smiling as her brother calmly and confidently walked forward, sitting on the stool. Minerva even gave him a small, indulgent smile as she put the hat on his head. Or perhaps it was a nervous smile, Severus mused, thinking of how he looked like his father, and all the trouble his father had caused as a student.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat cried quickly, and the Gryffindor table erupted with cheers. Severus clapped politely, but Remus and Sirius were both vigorously pleased as Jason walked over to the Gryffindor table, shaking Harry's hand with a small smile before sitting down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Severus knew he could relax slightly until the L's.

/-/

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Blaise frowned slightly as the tiny boy made his way to the front of the room. He exchanged a glance with Draco that said this boy would be a Gryffindor, and moments after the hat was put on the boy's soaked hair it cried out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Have you noticed the Hat is calling them quicker this year?" Draco said under the clapping as the boy went to join Jason Black at the Gryffindor table. "Maybe it doesn't like getting wet."

Blaise snorted, but Draco wasn't wrong.

"Lestrange, Brontes!"

They sat up straighter, and Blaise saw Adrasteia frowning out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to know what her problem was, but he didn't want to have to talk to her so that he could ask.

Brontes sat calmly on the stool, looking over the other people in the Hall instead of at them.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco and Blaise clapped as vigorously as ever, and Draco smiled and greeted his sort-of cousin with a handshake. Brontes seemed uninterested in the whole affair, but he took the handshake and sat calmly, listening with apparent interest to the rest of the Sorting. Perhaps he made a friend on the train, Blaise mused as he sighed and tried to think of a way to occupy his mind now his own interests had been Sorted.

It was a shame to lose Jason Black, but Blaise had known it was always a long shot, a Black in Slytherin after all this time.

/-/

Cora could feel her hands sweating as she waited for her turn. Jason in Gryffindor, Brontes in Slytherin. Would she be a Ravenclaw? Dennis, the really nice boy from the train, had been Sorted into Gryffindor with Jason. Maybe she would be in Gryffindor as well.

"Madley, Laura!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Marjoribanks, Jonathan!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"McCormack, Micah!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"McDonald, Natalie!"

Cora perked up as the girl who had joined their compartment just before the train took off stepped up to the stool, the Hat sitting on her head for a mere moment before crying, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Cora realized then that no matter where Jimmy, the other boy who joined their compartment, was Sorted, she wanted to be in Gryffindor. It was where her friends were.

/-/

Brontes didn't feel surprised or regretful that his cousin had been Sorted into Gryffindor, but he did feel like a bit of an island at the Slytherin table, with almost his entire compartment being Sorted to the other side of the Hall. He hadn't particularly liked the boys, but Cora and the McDonald girl had been nice enough.

"McLaird, Suzie!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Mumps, Helene!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Nettles, Joann!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Brontes frowned slightly. It looked like it would be a year with many Gryffindors, as they had already had many more students Sorted than the other Houses. Perhaps this happened every so often, but Brontes noticed that the tables were fairly even overall.

"Oddpick, Shevon!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Oldridge, Alger!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Peakes, Jimmy!"

Brontes tilted his head for a better look at the last boy from their compartment. Hufflepuff, or maybe Gryffindor, Brontes thought. He'd hit it off well with Jason.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Brontes clapped politely, realizing that Cora would certainly not be Sorted into Slytherin, and he would be alone while she went to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor and probably socialize with the others, leaving him in a cool minority of one.

/-/

Rabastan poured himself a drink as he watched the masks melt with the potion he'd gotten from Sirius when they ran into each other at King's Cross. The last of the Death Eater masks, he told himself, but there was no way of knowing for certain. Lucius could have held more back, or could have had others hold some back. Crabbe, perhaps, our Goyle.

He didn't feel solely responsible for getting rid of all reminders of that past, but he did keep an eye out. Rabastan felt a chill every time he saw one of those things, not because he regretted the things he'd done or why he'd done them. He still very much believed in supremacy of the pure wizard, but the wind had blown the other direction, and he knew what it would do to Cara to see the sacrifices she and Sirius had made come under fire with a revival of the Death Eaters and their ideals.

He liked to think he raised his children to be neutral enough to survive in any world, however it developed. Perhaps they would become blood traitors like Sirius, and Rabastan was begrudgingly okay with that. As long as they didn't turn out like Lucius, a remnant of a world long dead and unable to evolve into something new.

When the masks finished melting – in about half an hour, he supposed – he would write to Narcissa a coded message that they were gone and that he hoped their little problem would not arise again. She would understand. She was a clever, forward-thinking survivor. Sometimes Rabastan wished he could adopt her neutrality on politics that made it so easy to shift with the tide, but he did his best.

/-/

Dean was impressed with the vast number of Gryffindors who had been Sorted, and the Sorting wasn't even finished.

"Peasegood, Debby!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Pilliwickle, Retha!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

A small group of first year boys and one girl were already gossiping at the far end of the Gryffindor table, and Dean knew one of them was Catherine's brother, another Colin's brother. He hoped this new group wouldn't start the next Great Prank War, which had been a bit exhausting for everyone involved, and even those not involved.

"Platt, Selby!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Catherine looked a bit tired from vigorous clapping, but Dean raised his eyebrows at the long string of Hufflepuffs to be Sorted. Perhaps Gryffindor wouldn't have the most, after all.

"Poke, Van!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Prewett, Cora!"

Several heads perked up at this, including the group of gossiping first years, the Weasleys, Rhea Prewett, and several of Catherine's friends. Dean wondered what was so interesting about Cora Prewett, who seemed like a perfectly plain redheaded girl, like every other Weasley or Prewett he'd met.

Probably just that they all knew her, he reasoned.

She sat on the stool at the Hat took the longest it had on any of the students thus far (although still not dreadfully long) before it cried, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Weasleys roared with excitement, and the gossiping first years cheered, making room for her to sit with Natalie McDonald, smiling across the table at Jason Black as she tucked a strand of ginger hair behind hear ear.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Prod, Camilla!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Purkiss, Nova!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw house, which had not Sorted anybody since Ackerley, cried out in what Dean could only assume was relief. He clapped a little harder for them than usual, knowing they must have been very stressed.

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Quirrell, Delma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Rastrick, Finlay!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Rosier, Sandra!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

A particularly loud clap from Slytherin, and Dean supposed this was because she had the name of an old family.

"Ryan, Brook!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The last boy, Whitby, Kevin, was called up and Sorted into Hufflepuff, where he sat with the large mass of Hufflepuff first years, and Dumbledore stood to say his customary nonsense words in order to start the feast.

"Lots of Gryffindors this year," Seamus said, glancing down the table. "And we got a Black!"

Dean nodded. Jason Black resembled his father starkly, much more than Catherine did. It would be interesting to see if he resembled his father in temperament as well.

 **A/N: So, Rabastan buries the bodies (so to speak), Draco is further intrigued by Astoria, and Jason is a Gryffindor. Still plenty of days to accrue ten more reviews and get a record SIXTH bonus chapter this week!**

 **Review Prompt: Just a few more chapters to place your vote on Part 3! Also, pick three characters – any three characters. What sort of socks do they wear?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: When are we going to get a glimpse at this darkness that seems to be brewing for Part 3? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: Well, that's a two-fold question. We're currently in Harry's fourth year, of course. The first real vestiges of darkness in Part 2 begin in Harry's fourth year, and build from there as needed. But the pieces directly related to the darkest parts of Part 3 really begin to grow in Harry's sixth/seventh year. But that darkness is a byproduct of the darkness you'll see in this year, and some of the stuff happening in Part 3 is an echo, of sorts, of what's going to happen in Harry's fourth year.**

 **I hope that was informative without being a spoiler and without being tooooo confusing. Just a flash forward, I'm writing chapters in the 150s, and somebody's got a puppy. Thought y'all'd like that. ;)**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	57. The Triwizard Tournament

**A/N: This bonus chapter is, firstly, dedicated to** _ **hitvinw**_ **, a new reader this week. Welcome to the family! It is, secondly, not an earned bonus chapter, so to speak, but rather an I-finished-prewriting-this-story-you-lucky-sods bragging chapter. So, I've finished the prewriting for Part 2, I'll be announcing the final word on yes or no for Part 3 in a few chapters, and that could be this weekend, depending on your reviewing patterns. (wink, nudge). There are 157 chapters in this story, the final and official number.**

 **-C**

Harry barely listened to all the announcements, which were more reminders and information for first year students than anything else. He was tapping the table, anxious for bed, when Professor Dumbledore said, "I would also like to announce that Hogwarts will not be having a Quidditch Cup this season, as it is proud to be hosting the relaunching of the Triwizard Tournament."

There was a general buzz and uproar in the room.

Harry, like many of his classmates, had heard of the Triwizard Tournament, a competition between three wizarding schools in Europe which had been disbanded some time ago when a rather brutal incident resulted in multiple deaths.

"Due to the dangerous nature of competition," Professor Dumbledore continued, "those involved in organizing the event have agreed that only those students aged seventeen and older may enter."

He ignored the violent outrage of many younger students who were eager to have an opportunity to win glory. He saw Catherine frown with slight disappointment, but he felt quietly relieved. The idea of her being mauled to death by a cockatrice or something was very disturbing.

Professor Dumbledore raised his hands and said, "We will be welcoming the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in October, and I thank you to remember that we wish to represent Hogwarts School to the best of our ability. Goodnight."

Harry took a deep breath and looked around as some of the other students jumped to their feet, jostling to leave the Great Hall. Neville glanced at him across the table and said, "Kitty looked upset."

"Can't blame her," Ron said bitterly. "I wish I could enter. Maybe the twins will have some ideas, when they announce how the entries will be policed."

Harry and Neville exchanged a glance. Yes, the twins were brilliant and motivated, but he would bet on Dumbledore over them any day in a head-to-head battle, which he supposed this would be. Harry certainly wasn't about to follow them down the rabbit hole, not being particularly interested in dying. He'd had more than his share of mortal terror when he and Catherine had been running from the Acromantulas.

"No Quidditch," Harry said sadly as they walked up to the Tower. "And probably no Dueling Club. What am I supposed to do with my time?"

"Study," Hermione said sternly, and all the boys rolled their eyes.

"We could practice our spells anyway," Neville said with a shrug. "I bet if we asked nicely, the girls would join in."

Harry considered this. Would he be willing to ask Catherine and her friends to join in on an impromptu and non-school sanctioned dueling exercise? And where would they even hold such a thing?

He grinned, thinking of the Map. It would have their answers.

"Alright," he said, nodding slowly. "I'll have a chat with Kitty and see what we can come up with. Might be a fun thing to do, and before you argue, Hermione, it'll help us with our Defense practicals. Consider it studying of a sort."

Hermione couldn't argue, although she appeared to want to argue very much as they entered the Common Room. Instead she opened and closed her mouth and shook her head, going up the stairs to the girls' dormitories without another word.

"I don't know if she'll join us," Ron said thoughtfully. "Dunno if she seemed very keen. What do you think?"

Neville snorted, and led the way up to their own dormitory.

/-/

Catherine started her day sitting in the front-and-center of Professor Vector's Arithmancy class, head held high, certain of her own innate ability to succeed. Ginny and Rhea sat on either side of her, and Adrasteia sat as far back as she could, frowning at Catherine suspiciously around Ravenclaws and Slytherins who had joined the course.

"Excellent, excellent," Professor Vector said, taking a count of the students without asking for them to identify themselves. Probably she already knew all of them by sight from observing them over the years. "Now, welcome to Arithmancy, the study of the magic of numbers. As you have no doubt been made aware in other courses, numbers have incredible power, some more than others. Seven, for example, or three, or twelve. These are some of the most powerful numbers in existence."

Several students nodded and took notes, but Catherine just looked up at Professor Vector as Rhea hastily scribbled this down. Catherine was confident she'd top the class without ever taking a single note. If this surprised Professor Vector, the woman made no sign of it. She continued her introductory speech without a blink of hesitation.

"In two years' time, if you have not left my class for one reason or another, you will take your O.W.L. examination in Arithmancy to prove your proficiency. There is a great deal to cover before that point, so I expect all of you to apply yourselves accordingly. Now, who can tell me the most critical property of the number three?"

Every hand went up except for Catherine's. She simply leaned back in her desk as Professor Vector looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Have you not done your reading, Miss Black?"

"No, I haven't."

"Do you not wish to be able to participate fully in my class?"

"No, I will," Catherine said, shrugging. "I know the answer. I just thought I'd leave the easy questions for someone else."

Professor Vector's lips twitched, although it was difficult to say whether out of irritation or amusement. She asked Catherine to give the answer in spite of all the raised hands and a few irritated sighs.

"Completeness," Catherine said with careful and exact enunciation, and Professor Vector shook her head in a way that told Catherine that the woman was amused after all.

"Ten points to Hufflepuff," Professor Vector said, turning to the board and flicking her wand so that the most critical properties of each of the three most powerful numbers appeared on the board for the vigorous note-takers in the class. Catherine did not raise a quill, and continued to watch Professor Vector levelly.

/-/

While their friends had a free period, Ginny and Colin went down to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid had opted this year for books that didn't attack their readers, but recommendation of Professor Black, and Colin had said three times already how grateful he was about this.

"How was your hour off class this morning?" Ginny asked, feeling slightly annoyed that she had less time off than her friends. That was what she got for taking three courses instead of two, she supposed.

"It was fine," Colin said with a shrug. "I didn't know I had it until breakfast, so it didn't do me much good today. I heard we're doing Hippogriffs today. The fourth years saw Hagrid bringing some Hippogriffs around while they went to Herbology."

"Cool," Ginny said, shrugging.

/-/

Apart from Luna, who was insistent upon taking Divination, all of Rhea's friends (and unfortunately Adrasteia Lestrange) were in Ancient Runes together. Colin looked the most nervous of anyone in the room, and Ginny said a few things softly to him to calm him down.

"Welcome to Ancient Runes," Professor Babbling said, smiling at them. "This course will unlock for you the ancient secrets of our people, over many parts of the world, but especially Europe. Runes differ from region to region, and age to age, so this year we will focus on the more recent past and the more local regions, and as we move forward in the course we will branch out in time and space. In your sixth year, should you qualify and elect to continue this course, you will choose a specialty to delve into deeply for your N.E.W.T. studies. Until then, we want to make certain each of you is well-equipped in the basics."

Rhea nodded, writing eagerly about the details of how the course would be structured, noting that once again, Catherine was the only person in the room writing nothing. If this bothered Professor Babbling, she said nothing.

/-/

After lunch, after a morning of Charms and Herbology, Jason had his father's class for the first time.

He sat with Jimmy, Dennis, Natalie, and Cora as they settled at the front of the room, as they'd done in the other two courses that first day. His father winked at him, and Jason smiled back shortly before pulling out a quill and a well of ink.

"Welcome to History of Magic," his father said, smiling at them. "I assume a few of you like the sound of learning about gruesome battles and corrupt politics." Several students murmured their agreement. "Good! Because you first year of this class is basically consisted entirely of those two things."

A couple of the girls frowned slightly, and then Jason's father winked and said, "Don't worry, ladies. There's a couple of illicit affairs thrown in as well."

Jason saw Natalie blush, and he looked down at his parchment. He hadn't mentioned it to Jimmy – quickly becoming his closest friend – but he thought Natalie was quite pretty. Nothing like his own sisters, she was pale and frail looking, with a sort of rounded face, maybe oval shaped, and thin-looking hair. It didn't look especially soft or silky, but the only word he could think was that it looked warm.

He was a little bit embarrassed that he was spending so much time a day after meeting her thinking about her hair, but he focused his mind on his notes as his father told them about the expectations in his class, the rules, and the schedule for their first term. Cora, he thought, had noticed the way he kept looking at Natalie, but she said nothing. This was Jason's favorite thing about Cora Prewett. She minded her own business.

/-/

The second day of classes, Natalie took advantage of having only one morning class, and she slept in until the last possible moment. She grabbed a bit of toast and went back to the common room to work on her notes and homework before she walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts with Cora, Jimmy, Dennis, and Jason. Jason, when they talked about certain professors, didn't always call them by their titles, and Professor Lupin was one of these. To Jason, he was "Uncle Remus," and she was a little bit jealous that his father being a teacher meant that he had previous relationships with several of the teachers.

Professor Lupin was a kindly man, if a bit tired-looking. He greeted Cora and Jason as though he'd known them all their lives – and Natalie realized he probably had – and then he took role. She was impressed that he gave each student a kind smile when he associated a name with a face before moving on to the next student.

"This first year," he said in a soft, hoarse, tired voice, "we will be discussing various basics within Defense. Basic creatures, basic spells, basic history of defense. Each year, we will build a little bit closer to your O.W.L.s, and eventually you will find that you have come a very long way from where you are today. Mostly, for the first three years, we will focus on creatures. This year we won't have it, but in future years you will be eligible for joining the Dueling Club, where you will learn more about defensive spells."

Jonathan raised his hand, and when called on asked, "Do you run the club, sir?"

"Jointly, yes," Professor Lupin said, setting aside the role sheet. "Professor Black, Professor Snape and I run it together. Now, if there are no other questions, shall we talk about legends and myths?"

Several students perked up, including Natalie. She knew enough about legend from a Muggle perspective that this was a conversation she could join.

/-/

Laura Madley stood with Kevin Whitby in the Greenhouse with the other Hufflepuff first years, and the Gryffindors. She didn't know the names of most of the Gryffindors yet, but she noted, as role was taken, Jason Black. She'd had his father's class the day before, and she regarded with interest how remarkably like his father he looked.

Admittedly, very attractive. Still, if he was anything like his father in temperament, she wasn't sure she'd want to be around him very much. He'd be exhausting.

/-/

Aeson hated being an only child. His mother had suggested that he should cherish this time alone, but he found he didn't know what to do with himself without siblings to bother. His father had been working on his stupid little models for quite some time, locking himself away in his study. His mother had been sketching and having visitors. Aeson tried to poke in to the tea room when Aunt Cara visited, but his mother shooed him away before Aunt Cara could sneak him a biscuit.

Being an only child, he decided with firmness, was a horrible, horrible thing.

/-/

By the second day of Care of Magical Creatures, Draco decided all had been forgiven between himself and Hagrid. He had done his reading twice over during the summer, spent twice as long on his assignment as he typically would, and was eager to prove that he wanted the whole thing with the Hippogriff to be water under the bridge. He supposed that Hagrid had a lot on his mind, what with delegates from two other schools coming to the school, making sure the grounds were at their best for the Tournament.

"Can't believe how awful this class is," Pansy said with a pout as Hagrid introduced his (probably illegal) Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"Why are you still taking it, then?" Draco asked dryly, blatantly picking up his things, ignoring the spluttering of his classmates, and moving over to where Harry and his friends were. When Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, Draco simply said, "Pansy is driving me mad."

The Gryffindors nodded with understanding and they turned their attention to the rather sketchy creatures being introduced to them.

"What d'you reckon, Granger?" he asked softly as they moved closer. "Illegal breeding?"

"Definitely," she said, craning her neck uneasily for a better look inside the crates. "Poisonous?"

They both examined what they could see of the monstrous creatures, taking mental stock of what probably went into cross-breeding them.

"Probably not," he said, nodding when she murmured her agreement. "Still probably pretty dangerous."

"They're bloody mental," Weasley groaned. "How are we supposed to feed them? I mean, where are the mouths?"

This was a very good questions. They'd seen stingers and suckers, and apparently the ends would sometimes just explode off them (the tails, if one could call them that) with the least provocation. They were supposed to try different food and see what they liked to eat the best. Draco didn't like the sound of that, but the crate that he and Harry's group had selected they opted to feed with raw meat. It seemed reasonable, given all the predatory features the things had.

"What happens if they don't eat the meat?" Neville asked nervously.

Granger and Draco both shook their heads, very clearly not wanting to speculate on what this would mean, both for the creatures and their grades.

"Should we say something to Dumbledore?" he asked Harry softly as they walked back up to the castle. "I mean, this is pretty illegal."

"Should we? Probably," Harry said sternly. "Will we? Absolutely not. And honestly, don't you think Dumbledore probably already knows?"

Draco shrugged. Dumbledore surely didn't know everything that happened at Hogwarts, in spite of his reputation otherwise. Still, Harry had a much better history as far as the Groundskeeper was concerned, so Draco would leave the decision in his hands. After the whole Hippogriff incident, Draco sort of wanted to just mind his own business.

"How's Jason been?" Draco asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, I suppose," Harry said with a shrug. "He's made friends, and they all seem very low-key. But that's Jason for you. The silent one in that family. What about Brontes? How's he doing?"

Draco hummed, glanced over his shoulder, and then said, "I reckon he's lonely. You know how it is."

Harry probably didn't, but he nodded anyway.

/-/

Ourania and Damon sat together on a surprisingly warm Tuesday afternoon, watching the clouds from the back garden.

"D'you think Cora's having loads of fun without us?" Damon asked, uncharacteristically starting a conversation.

Ourania really wasn't sure. She wanted to believe that Cora was having fun, but on the other hand, she didn't want to believe that Cora and Rhea were both having adventures while they were just lying in the grass.

"Nah," she said, shrugging. "They've got classes and homework and stuff. Any fun they're going to have, it won't be until the weekend. We can have fun all week long."

Damon smiled, but she knew he didn't really believe her words any more than she did. He was just hoping they would have a bit of fun together when their sisters came back.

"D'you want to play some chess?" he asked after a long silence fell between them.

Usually Ourania would scoff at the idea of playing chess on such a beautiful day. She would want to run and jump and fly. But today, she just didn't have the heart for it, so she shrugged again, and claimed white before they ambled back into the house.

/-/

The only people worth knowing in Wednesday morning's Double Ancient Runes, Draco mused, sitting down with them, were Granger and Blaise. If it bothered Blaise that they were sitting with Hermione Granger, he didn't show it.

"Your friends sleeping in?" Draco asked her as he pulled out his books.

"Probably," she said with a sniff, "although I told them it would be the perfect time to do the first round of homework."

Blaise's lips twitched, but he made no sound as he selected a quill for their first translation, which was already on the board, waiting for them.

 **A/N: So, the Triwizard Tournament is on, other activities are on hold, and even the first year students are getting baby crushes.**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly reminder for your votes on Part 3! If you want more information, ask it quickly, because I'm closing the voting soon and announcing the result in Chapter 61! ALSO, any bets on how the Triwizard Tournament's going to go?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Are Jason and Cora Prewett going to be a thing? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: Erm…. How do I hadn't this without spoilers? Well, I will say that one of the three Black children will date at least two people. Also, one of the three Black children will marry a Prewett. I…won't say which Black and which Prewett, but I will say that Cora and Jason don't marry each other.**

 **Q: I'm wondering if you still intend on Remus/Tonks. (danceegirl92)**

 **A: So, as much as this ship always has my heart, I thought a lot about it, and I didn't have a way to work it in and not have it feel forced. It didn't suit my vision for this story, so as much as it pains me, no. There won't be any Remus/Tonks in this particular storyline. Sigh. Sorry if that was a hope for anyone, but I just really couldn't justify it.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	58. Reacclimating

**A/N: This regularly scheduled chapter is dedicated to reader/reviewer** _ **danceegirl92**_ **. Enjoy!**

 **-C**

Astoria rather liked Potions class. Professor Snape was relatively partial to her, letting her do more or less what she wanted in her own corner of the room, snapping at people who bothered her. She knew she wasn't his favorite student, because she'd not been offered extra lessons like Catherine Black had been receiving for years. Still, she liked having a quiet, cool classroom that often became clouded with steam. It made her feel like she was in a private world.

"Miss Greengrass," he said, coming over to look at her Potion. He nodded at it. "Very good. Have you considered using the flat side of your knife on those beetles?"

"No, sir," she said, feeling her neck flush slightly.

The book said to use the sharp side, and so it had not occurred to her. She supposed those sorts of things occurred to Catherine Black, thus the extra lessons. Professor Snape said nothing that felt like chastisement as he swept on to look at the other cauldrons, but she felt smaller as she began to use the flat side of her knife instead.

It was the feeling she didn't meet his impossibly high expectations that bothered her. She'd seen his ire, seen his anger, seen his disappointment with other students. She didn't want those things, and she did strive to impress him. It seemed nothing she did would ever be good enough to truly earn his approval, and sometimes she wondered if Catherine Black was really so talented, or if perhaps it was knowing her all her childhood that had made the difference.

When she finished her potion, she went up to the front of the room with her flask to present to him. He took a few notes, nodded to himself, and gave her an E.

An E.

She was sure the potion was flawless, but she accepted it with a nod, moving to clean up her station. She could feel his dark eyes following her as she Vanished the rest of the potion and took her cauldron off heat with slightly shaking hands.

Hermione Granger probably got an O on this same Potion. Draco likely got an O. Catherine Black most certainly got an O.

So why couldn't she get an O? Was she doing something wrong? Was she not as good at Potions as she thought she was?

"Miss Greengrass," Professor Snape said as she went to leave at the end of class, "a moment, if you please."

She licked her lips and hesitated with a nod, waiting for the other students to file out before she walked up to his desk, eyes lowered slightly in deference, as she always did with teachers.

"Miss Greengrass, you are an excellent student, and a talented potioneer, but you will never be able to fulfill that potential if you don't have more confidence in your own ability and instincts."

She frowned, looking up at him.

"Instincts, sir?"

He blinked at her for a moment before saying, "The best students in my course – and in all courses, you will find, going forward – are those who do not rely on the writings and words of others to produce their work, but who follow their own instincts about how to prepare ingredients, how to pot a plant, how to move the wrist on a spell. Do you see?"

Astoria supposed she did see. Greatness didn't come from following somebody else's path, but by improving the path, or forging a new path entirely. But she didn't want greatness. She just wanted to top her class at Hogwarts. That was a small enough goal.

"Yes, sir."

He gave her a look that said quite plainly that he knew that she did not see, not in the way he wished, but he dismissed her regardless.

/-/

James waited for Lily to come home before he pulled out the unopened envelope and presented it to her happily.

"What's this?" she asked, frowning at him with hesitation. "It's marked from Hogwarts. Harry's not got detention already, has he?"

"Not that I know of," James said with a shrug. "Just open it, love."

She sighed and opened the envelope, pulling out the two crisp tickets and raising her eyebrows, puzzled.

"Tickets for the…first task of the Triwizard Tournament? James, Harry's not going to be in the tournament. He's too young."

"All the better!" James said happily. "No Quidditch this year, so we can go, spend a little extra time at Hogwarts, maybe even watch it with them!"

She sighed and shook her head, but the slight twitch at the corners of her lips told James quite clearly that his wife was actually very excited to be going to the task. She went to put the tickets in their usual place for tickets, so they wouldn't get lost, and he decided he was going to make a cake. Always good to practice icing a cake.

"James?" she called as she came out of their bedroom. "What are you doing?"

"Erm, in the kitchen, love."

"You had better not be baking another cake!"

/-/

On the third day in a row of Care of Magical Creatures, Hermione felt shamefully pleased that they weren't doing anything more with that course for the latter part of the week. She was sick of the Skrewts, mildly horrified by them, and tired of walking classmates to the infirmary after…accidents. Malfoy called them incidents instead.

"Harry, if we get out of this course with all of our hair this year, it will be a miracle," she said as they left the class again, with an hour off until dinner. "Shouldn't we say something to…somebody?"

"And get Hagrid in trouble?" Harry said, stern. "Where's your loyalty, Hermione?"

She wanted to point out that they weren't in Hufflepuff, they were in Gryffindor, but then she supposed he'd make some comment at her lack of bravery, so she held her tongue. She then wondered if Skrewts had tongues, as they'd yet to find a mouth on one of them.

/-/

Thursday mornings of the first week of the year were Severus's least favorite mornings all year long. This was the morning he began with the second weekly hour of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years. The level of dunderhead in the room on such mornings was usually painful to him, physically, and this year was no exception. The only time he had ever rejoiced to have Hufflepuffs in his class was when Catherine was in his classes, because even the better Hufflepuff students showed a surprising lack of skill in Potions, including their best student, Cedric Diggory.

Severus swept into the room and ignored the cringing of his students. Tomorrow morning, he would have Jason and Brontes in his classroom, and then he would see what this year would be made of.

/-/

This year, Thursday afternoon held Double Defense Against the Dark Arts…with the Gryffindors. Blaise wasn't particularly keen on this, especially knowing from the Dueling Club that Defense happened to be Potter's best subject, by far. Still, Professor Lupin was alright as far as teachers went.

"Good afternoon," Professor Lupin said. "We'll be talking about Curses this year. I won't…I won't delve into anything too deep today. We'll talk about that next week, but today I want to impress upon all of you that this year will be disturbing to some of you, and we'll talk about quite a few things moving forward that might make you uncomfortable." He paused. "Truth be told, some of the things we'll discuss make me uncomfortable. So just know that you're not alone, and I understand how some of you will feel."

Blaise and Draco exchanged a glance before looking forward.

Blaise knew very little about Professor Lupin's history, except that he was good friends with Professor Black and Professor Snape, and that he had an Order of Merlin for something he'd done during the war.

"I want all of you to know," Professor Lupin continued, "that I have the permission of Professor Dumbledore to show you some spells that are technically not legal to perform. The Ministry wants to protect students from these spells, honestly, but having seen their impact on the world, I want you to know why these things are illegal, and how to defend yourself should someone decide to use them against you."

Blaise held his breath. The only spells he knew of that fit that description were the Unforgivable Curses, and to see those in class was almost unthinkable. He felt…admittedly a bit excited at the prospect, but he idea of defending himself from them was a bit uncomfortable.

"When I was your age," Professor Lupin said to a totally silent classroom, "England was at war. Lord Voldemort was causing terror and destruction, and these curses were the usual fare of his supporters. I've seen them performed, every one of them, and I know victims of all three. In fact, I am at liberty to say that two of your professors are victims of the Cruciatus Curse."

Blaise glanced at Potter, who looked down at his parchment and took a deep breath.

Snape and Black, then, Blaise mused. Whatever happened during the war, Professor Snape and Professor Black had suffered the Cruciatus Curse. Blaise wondered what that would feel like. It was said to burn horribly, to make every muscle feel like fire and ripping at once. Draco shivered slightly.

This class wouldn't be so bad after all, Blaise mused, listening attentively as Professor Lupin told them the names of the three Curses, and the basics of how and why they were performed. Every student took careful notes, eyes wide. He promised to tell them stories of the war, and Blaise felt his stomach flip and flop anxiously.

Would he tell them how he earned his Order of Merlin, Blaise wondered? Would he tell them about how their professors suffered the Cruciatus Curse? Would he tell them his memories of the gore and suffering? How did he mean that he would show them how these curses worked, how they were performed?

Suddenly, Defense Against the Dark Arts became everybody's favorite course.

/-/

Fabian sat down with Dorcas in the Ministry cafeteria and grinned at her.

"Please tell me we're going to the First Task."

She hesitated. He knew her department helped to arrange something for the task, and that she couldn't tell him about it, but he was desperate to see what it was, to see their daughters while at Hogwarts. He was actually itching to find more and more reasons to go back to Hogwarts, especially since Rhea wouldn't be doing any Quidditch this year.

"I have tickets if I want them," Dorcas said slowly, "but it might be very…ugly, Fabian."

"I like ugly," he said happily. "I like ugly, really. We can go. We don't have to bring the twins. We can leave them with Molly, because she won't want to go, and she'd be happy for the company, you know. Please, please, please!"

He pouted, pressing his lip as far forward as it could go, and watching his wife trying to keep a straight face in response.

"What are you, five?" she asked, with a forced sigh. "Fine, we'll go to the First Task. Make the arrangements with Molly for the twins and I'll procure the bloody tickets. You know, Charlie…"

She paused, trailing off, flushing and quickly saying something about her salad. But she'd already said too much, and Fabian couldn't stop grinning.

There would be dragons.

/-/

By Friday morning of his first week, Brontes was exhausted. He had Double Potions, with the Gryffindors, and in the afternoon he would have Double Herbology with the Ravenclaws, and then he would be done for the week and pleased for it.

Brontes ignored the whispers of his classmates, and he sat down with Cora and her blonde friend, right behind Jason and his two male friends, nodding to Cora and Jason, trying to recall the names of the other three from the train. Creevey, he thought, Peakes, and McDonald. But first names were difficult to call to mind.

Professor Snape swept in, giving a brief speech about how important and different Potions was before taking role and frowning slightly at the sight of Brontes sitting with the Gryffindors, saying nothing about it.

He began quizzing the room on their knowledge of various plants, and Brontes and Jason realized very quickly that they were being held to a higher standard than their classmates. When released to brew in partners, Jason opted to brew with him, and Professor Snape narrowed his eyes over their potion.

"D'you think it's because he knows us?" Brontes asked softly.

"No," Jason said, frowning. "It's because of Kitty. It's because Kitty is crazy. You know she's doing extra Potions classes."

Brontes hummed and frowned. He didn't like being judged by his cousin's standards, but he supposed it would force him to rise to the occasion.

/-/

Narcissa sat down with Cara and said, "Are you going to see the Tournament?"

"I really don't know," Cara said, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes as Narcissa poured them tea. "Caro is a bit bouncy lately, and can't be left alone. I certainly don't want her seeing something like this. She's got enough mad ideas without watching potential carnage."

Narcissa smiled tightly, trying not to look as amused as she felt. Caroline was truly a force to be reckoned with.

/-/

At the end of the week, Dean adjusted the posters around his bed, rubbed his eyes, and listened as his roommates gossiped about the eventual arrival of the students from the other school.

"I've heard the Durmstrang students are all into the Dark Arts," Seamus said, taking an Every Flavor Bean from Neville. "You know, they teach Dark Arts instead of defense?"

"I think it's just Martial Magic," Neville said, kicking off his shoes, and selecting a bean for himself. "But I guess that's an understandable mistake. They like to win international dueling competitions. They don't happen very often, but I always read about Durmstrang students winning."

"I've heard the girls at Beauxbatons are in a different league," Ron said, sitting on the end of his own bed and peeling off his socks. "Like, classy, fit, charming, eager…."

"Sounds like something in porn," Harry said, laughing. "They're just girls, Ron, like anybody else."

"Well, except that last bit," Seamus said with a laugh, "sounds a bit like Kitty Black."

Harry dropped his book bag abruptly and turned around with a frown. Dean sat up straighter and Neville's eyebrows twitched upward.

"What?" Harry prompted, almost like he was about to start a fight. Dean frowned, glancing at his best friend, who seemed puzzled.

"Just saying, you know," Seamus said with a shrug. "Kitty's fit, classy, charming. Dunno if she's eager, but she may be. I suspect she's more trouble than she'd be worth, but—"

"You might want to check yourself there, mate," Neville said quickly, watching Harry open his mouth to say Merlin knows what. "You're talking about a teacher's daughter, and one of the richest girls in Britain. If it ever got back to her that you said something like that, she'd have so many ways to squash you like a bug without even lifting a wand."

Seamus shrugged again and said, "See? More trouble than she's worth."

Dean exhaled as he watched Harry just stare at Seamus as though looking through him, before saying he was going to take a shower before bed and retreating to take it.

"What got into him?" Seamus asked, frowning. "I mean, they're like cousins. Not like he fancies her, or anything."

"Professor Black's parents were cousins," Ron offered in a weak attempt as a joke.

Neville and Dean exchanged frowns from across the room, though, and Dean knew what Neville was thinking exactly. Whatever Harry's feelings were to be classified as toward Catherine Black, he didn't like the idea of people looking at her as a sexual object, and Dean really didn't blame him. Even if he thought of her as a cousin or a sister, she was a younger cousin or sister. Whether or not she needed his protection, it was natural that he would feel compelled to defend her honor. At least, it seemed natural to Dean.

/-/

Ryana braided a strand of Catherine's silky hair lazily as she said, "I don't suppose you have any family at Beauxbatons."

"Hmm?" Catherine asked, not looking up from her Potions book. Ryana was always astonished that Catherine could read that thing for fun.

"I said I shouldn't wonder if you had family at Beauxbatons."

"How's that, then?"

"Well, you've got a home in France, haven't you?"

Catherine shrugged and said, "Maybe distant family. That house has been Black family property for centuries. It's not like it was just brought into our inheritance recently. Ryana, have you got a blue ink? I can't seem to find mine."

"Sorry, no."

Ryana could really only afford one color of ink per year, her black and a spare if she hadn't run out by her next supply shopping trip.

"Mmm. Never mind, then. If Harry's not got some, I'll buy some in Hogsmeade."

Ryana frowned.

"I thought you said you had some."

"I do," Catherine said, closing her book and stretching, "but it doesn't do me any good if I can't find it. Did your parents sign the Hogsmeade form?"

"Yeah," Ryana said, grinning. "Can…can I join you guys whenever the first one is?"

Catherine shrugged, looking up, saying, "I doubt I'm going to be with the girls, but you can ask them. I want to scope things out with Harry's crew the first time out, scope out the best stuff that third years haven't learned yet. Then the second time, I'll be a pro."

That seemed reasonable to Ryana, who thought Rhea and Luna would probably be happy to let her tag along, anyway. Maybe this would be her big ticket to join that group, finally, and prove her worthiness to Catherine.

 **A/N: So, parents are going to the first task, Severus tries to teach students and doesn't try with dunderheads, and Harry has a minor shock. PART 1 SPOILERS BELOW, PLEASE READ IT.**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly reminder that you've still got a couple of chapters to vote on Part 3, and judging by the last couple of weeks, that may not take two more weeks! ALSO, Imagine you're a portrait. What place would you want to hang? Hogwarts is obvious, so we'll take that off the list. But perhaps Lestrange Manor, Selwyn Manor, Grimmald Place, Malfoy Manor. If you'd like, you could even put in one of the houses less likely to have a portrait in the HP sense.**

 **Q &A: First, I want to thank y'all for the influx of reviews and questions. Y'all are GEMS. I also want to direct you to my story, **_**Against the Odds**_ **, which I've begun prewriting as I've done with this one, and I intend to release at least one chapter a week.**

 **Q: Will Voldemort be showing up soon? (DREAMLESSLY17, Guest)**

 **A: So, this is really important, and if you haven't read Part 1 PLEASE read it. If you have and you are still puzzled by this, let me be perfectly clear.**

 **Voldemort is dead. He is NOT coming back. I tried to make that super clear, but if that wasn't – there will be other demons to face. But NOT Voldemort.**

 **Q: How would you feel about having an LGBTQ character? (ravenclauses)**

 **A: So, funny you should ask. I have no aversion to writing them generally, although I feel less qualified to write them, and certainly less qualified to write transgender or gay male, but if I felt strongly that a character I was working on fell into those zones, I wouldn't shy away. I would just bury myself in research first, because those are things I have limited personal experience with.**

 **But it's funny you should ask, because as far as this story is concerned, there will be SEVERAL LGBTQ characters between Part 2 and the potential Part 3. You've already met 3 or 4 characters matching this description, but it just isn't relevant yet. As the students get older and start actually having relationships, it'll rear its head. If this is exciting for you, I'm glad and I'll do my best to represent this well. It won't all be happy, and it won't all be negative – some of them will be regular characters who happen to be LGBTQ and one will be batshit crazy and happens to be LGBTQ. That's a disclaimer.**

 **If this is something that bothers you, I'll apologize that it bothers you, but it's a part of life, so I'm not going to keep it from my story. It wouldn't make sense. I'm also not putting disclaimers on chapters with LGBTQ sexual interaction, but I will put trigger warnings on chapters, where appropriate, for more truly objectionable activity.**

 **I did say this would get dark.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	59. The Goblet of Fire

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I would say this is a gift, but actually, y'all have earned a bonus chapter! :D**

 **-C**

Hogwarts was buzzing with activity as soon as the announcements were put on the announcement boards that the other schools would be arriving at the end of October. Howard Harkiss sat in the Ravenclaw common room when the announcement was being examined by excited older students, pulling out his homework and wishing for some peace and quiet. He didn't want to go upstairs, because his dormitory was even louder at the moment, and the library was no good because it was about to close.

Rhea Prewett and Luna Lovegood sat down with him at the corner of the bookshelves, smiling at him weakly.

"I don't suppose your friend Black is going to put her name in somehow," he said with an equally weak smile.

"No," Luna said, shrugging. "She doesn't think it's worth the stress of entering. Crossing Dumbledore isn't really anybody's idea of fun, even Kitty's."

Howard suspected it was more that she didn't want to anger her father, who would no doubt see all shades of red if she somehow was selected.

"The real question," Rhea said softly, "is who will be selected as the Hogwarts champion. I mean, most of the people who I think would be great to watch are too young. Fred and George won't be seventeen until the spring, so they can't enter."

"Roger's useless," Luna said brightly, as though she'd not said anything rude at all. "I suppose Angelina wouldn't be so bad, if she'll be old enough." She hummed. "Will she be old enough?"

Rhea and Howard shrugged, and Howard said, "What about the Hufflepuffs? They've got some decent older students. Like, erm, what's his name? The guy who beat Potter to the Snitch last year."

That was so rare an event that everyone knew who was meant without further description, and both girls frowned as they said, "Diggory."

They all nodded, pondering Diggory. He was probably old enough, clearly had some athletic ability, and although Howard didn't know much about him, he thought he was probably pretty bright because he always had a full-looking book bag, and for older students that meant they'd continued most of their courses to N.E.W.T. level.

"Either are possible," Luna said thoughtfully. "Angelina or Diggory. I suspect most of our friends will want Angelina. We like her."

"Do you?" Howard asked, not knowing Johnson very well. "Why's that?"

"She's nice," Rhea said with a shrug. "A bit…intense. But nice. Ginny says she's great to talk to. Hey, what about Lee Jordan?" she asked suddenly.

Luna shook her head.

"Summer birthday," she said firmly. "No, as far as people we know, I'm pretty sure it's just Angelina and Diggory. Now Diggory, I think, has been very nice to Kitty, but I don't think Kitty's particularly fond of him."

"Oh?" Howard asked. "Why not?"

The girls exchanged a glance before Rhea said softly, "He made Harry look foolish, you see? Not that he did it on purpose, but…. Well, it's a pride thing. A loyalty thing. You understand."

Howard didn't really understand, but he nodded as though he did. Hufflepuffs were a little bit crazy.

/-/

"Apparently we're having a really big feast on Halloween," Ron was saying as Neville put four books and four sets of notes in his bag. "To welcome the other schools."

"Cool," Harry said, distractedly. "Neville, did your parents make you bring dress robes, too?"

"Yeah," Neville said, trying to find his History notes. "It was on our list."

Harry hummed and then said, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. We've got this big Tournament, all these visiting students, and we have to have dress robes? Some kind of ceremony, maybe?"

Neville shrugged. He'd wear them when he was told to, and otherwise he wouldn't think much about it. He'd brought them like he was supposed to, and that was simply that.

"Mine are awful," Ron said despairingly. "You should see them. I mean, I don't want anyone to see them, but you wouldn't believe how awful they are without seeing them."

Curious, Neville and Harry gathered around Ron's trunk to have a look at these supposedly terrible dress robes.

And he pulled them out, maroon velvet with a horrible ruffled bib and ruffled sleeves. Second-hand, certainly, and Neville was suddenly wishing he'd brought a second pair so Ron had something else to wear.

"Yeah," Harry said, wincing. "Those are pretty ruddy awful."

/-/

On October the 30th, the students were lined up on the grounds to welcome the new arrivals, even getting out of classes early. Catherine stood with Ryana, as they were grouped by House and year, and she could see her brother standing with the Gryffindors, a couple of rows in front of Harry. When Harry caught her gaze he smiled a little, and she wondered what that meant.

She smiled back.

There were gasps, and a few people pointing upward, so Catherine looked up, where a large carriage was being pulled through the sky with massive winged horses. She wasn't easily impressed, but even Catherine's breath caught at the majestic sight. When the horses landed and the carriage came to a stop, students began craning and leaning to get a better look. The doors opened, and a very large high-heeled shoe exited first.

The woman was enormously tall, and quite broad. Enormous in the way Hagrid was enormous, beyond tall. Catherine was moderately surprised, and the woman greeted Professor Dumbledore warmly, in a heavy French accent.

After her came students in thin silk robes, definitely not suited to autumn and winter in Scotland. Catherine's lips twitched with amusement as one blonde and impossibly beautiful girl shivered, her nose wrinkling as she looked around at the grounds, and up at the castle.

This could be fun.

The Beauxbatons students were just being led up toward the school when a student shouted out, "The lake!"

Heads began craning in a different direction, and Catherine could barely see the maelstrom opening in the middle of the Black Lake. She raised her eyebrows, trying to see what was happening, when a ship's mast came out of the dark water, and Ryana Cotton gasped out loud.

Ryana was hardly alone. A ship was emerging from the water. It anchored near the shore, and a tall, dark-haired man in furs was disembarking first, with a fur-wrapped student very close to him.

The man greeted Professor Dumbledore gruffly, but Catherine was hardly looking at him. Her eyes, like so many eyes and whispers around her, were focused on the student at the man's elbow, ahead of all the other students.

The Quidditch sensation, Viktor Krum.

/-/

Luna and Rhea sat down at the feast and exchanged glances as the Beauxbatons students settled in at the Ravenclaw table.

In truth, Luna wasn't overly impressed with these Beauxbatons students. The girls especially didn't seem very friendly, and while the Durmstrang students seemed a bit large and terrifying, they appeared to be interested in the school and students of Hogwarts.

"Is this French food?" Rhea asked, looking nervously at the seafood stew Luna could never remember the name of.

"Yeah," Luna said, smiling. "I've never had it, but it always looks and smells delicious."

"Why haven't you had it, then?" Rhea asked suspiciously.

"Daddy thinks shellfish cause Wrackspurts."

This seemed to not bother Rhea, however, because she glanced over to the French girls, who were happily piling the stew onto their own dishes, and Rhea decided it was probably safe, serving a bit of it to herself.

/-/

Professor Dumbledore spoke with words of welcome and warmth, and then said, "The champions will be selected tomorrow evening, one from each school, by an impartial judge. I must urge you not to enter this Tournament lightly. The rewards are great, but the consequences can also be greatly disastrous."

He waved his wand, opening a cask brought out by Filch, and inside was a beautiful cup covered in runes, with flames rising up from it majestically.

Rhea raised her eyebrows, astonished with the size and beauty of it. She wondered what it was, and if its flame burned hot.

"This is the Goblet of Fire," Professor Dumbledore explained. "It is the impartial selector of champions. You will, if entering, write your name and school on a slip of parchment, cross the age line I, myself, will lay down, and put the parchment into the goblet. It will select the three champions from these slips."

There was stirring among the guests, and some of the Hogwarts students who were probably old enough to enter, and considering entering. Rhea was frowning as she realized that Fred and George were whispering excitedly. As soon as Dumbledore said that there would be an Age Line, the two had their scheming faces on, and Rhea knew they were going to be stupid enough to try to crack the Age Line.

But it wouldn't be just any Age Line. It would be one drawn by Albus Dumbledore, and Rhea thought anyone who thought they could fool Dumbledore was a fool.

/-/

Jimmy watched Dennis bounce on his bed excitedly after the welcome feast for the delegations from the other schools, and Jason calmly rolled his eyes and changed into his pajamas.

"What d'you think they're going to have to do?" Dennis asked, grinning. "Fight a vampire, maybe?"

"I doubt they'd use sentient beings as obstacles to fight," Jason said, frowning. "Maybe other creatures, though."

"Like what?" Jimmy asked, pulling off his own jumper and fishing around for his pajama bottoms. "Got to be something scarier than salamanders."

"Hags?" Dennis asked, excited.

"Hags are sentient," the other two boys chorused, before smirking at each other.

Whatever it was they were going to do, Jimmy was glad he was only going to watch, and that there was no pressure on him to enter. He wasn't a coward, obviously. He'd been Sorted into Gryffindor. But he didn't much see the point in trying to prove himself for a stupid trophy and some gold.

There just didn't seem to be any point in eternal glory. Nobody he knew could even name the people who'd won the Triwizard Tournament before it was disbanded, so eternal wasn't really the right word.

"Just go to bed, Dennis," Jason said, with no trace of irritation in his voice. But he must be irritated, because Jimmy was irritated, and Jimmy was convinced that Jason felt everything he felt. "We'll find out when it happens, okay?"

/-/

Throughout the day, Natalie saw various students putting their names in the Goblet of Fire, which was being kept in a room across from the Great Hall for easy access for the foreign students. A couple of students had tried to fool the Age Line through various means, the most entertaining being the Weasley twins, but she'd seen all of those students thwarted.

More specifically, they were aged, physically, to an incredibly elderly state, their slips rejected, and they were taken to the infirmary to have the impact reversed. Professor Dumbledore seemed to find these attempts at massive disobedience rather entertaining, and she suspected the side effects of trying to fool the Age Line were more to entertain Professor Dumbledore than as a punishment to the students in question.

Perhaps, in his youth, he had been a prankster.

"I saw Angelina Johnson put her name in," Jason said quietly at the end of classes, before dinner. "I hope it's her."

"Because she's a Gryffindor?" she asked.

"Because she's nice," Jason said, with a slight frown. "You forget, Kitty's a Hufflepuff."

Natalie raised her eyebrows, and was about to say that Catherine wasn't very nice, but she held her tongue. Although he didn't seem to have an unrealistic view of his sister, Jason was devoted to her, and wouldn't hear a bad word about her from anyone. That seemed fair. Natalie sometimes wished she had a brother who would defend her so well.

"Cedric Diggory seems nice, too," Cora said, blushing slightly. "He's very attractive."

"Ew," Dennis said, scratching his cheek. "He's, like, ancient."

"He's only seventeen," Natalie said, in defense of her shy friend. "And anyway, he _is_ attractive."

Jason frowned again, not looking at them and saying nothing as Jimmy and Dennis made gagging sounds.

/-/

Caroline rolled onto her tip-toes and begged her mother, for the fiftieth time since she got the letters from her siblings, if they were going to go and see the Triwizard Tournament.

"Please, please, please, Mummy, can we go? Please?"

Her mother sighed and shook her head.

"I've already told you, Caro, we're not going."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

Caroline pondered crying something about her life being ruined forever and storming out of the room, but it had never before swayed either parent to give her what she wanted, so she settled for pouting in a chair at the end of the kitchen table, rubbing her eyes.

"Now, I do have something we can do," her mother said with surprising gentleness. "Dobby and Winky are naming their new child tomorrow, and I've decided to pay them a visit. Would you like to see a baby house-elf?"

Deciding that while it wasn't exactly blood and gore, it was something one didn't see every day, so Caroline decided to stop pouting, to grab her cloak, and to agree to go with eagerness.

/-/

Draco sat down at the Halloween feast and smiled at Viktor Krum, who was fast becoming a friend. Viktor seemed to appreciate that Blaise, Draco, and Brontes didn't fawn over him, and Draco liked the jealous looks Ron Weasley was shooting him from across the Great Hall.

"Do you think you'll be your school's champion, then?" Astoria asked smoothly, unconcerned with the celebrity of Krum.

"Vell, it is possible," Krum said, shrugging. "Ve have many talented students."

Talented, yes, but everyone who had gone to the Quidditch World Cup had seen Krum's intelligence, guile, and athletic ability. That had to count for something.

Plus, he had nerves of steel.

Professor Dumbledore stood when the flames on the Goblet turned colors, and everyone turned their heads to see what was happening.

"It is about to begin," Professor Dumbledore said, not terribly loud in a completely silent Hall.

After what felt like a complete minute of stunned and anxious silence, a little slip of paper shot out of the Goblet, falling peacefully into Dumbledore's outstretched hand. He held it up to read it as the whole room waited.

"The Champion from Beauxbatons Academy," Professor Dumbledore announced, "is Miss Fleur Delacour!"

An impossibly attractive blonde girl who looked as though nothing in the school was good enough for her went up to accept her congratulations, to the general applause of the room.

/-/

Damon wasn't bothered that his parents weren't letting them go to see the Triwizard Tournament. He thought it would be nice for them to get some time away, to do something without him and Ourania around every moment. Besides, he wanted to have a bit of time with Aunt Molly, who was probably very lonely, before he and Ourania also went away to school and left her without even babysitting opportunities.

"It's not fair," Ourania whined, kicking without force at Damon's bedroom wall.

She'd been whinging for about an hour since their parents told them they'd be staying with Aunt Molly while the First Task happened.

"It's perfectly fair to me," Damon said, shrugging. "And Mum probably could only get two tickets anyway."

"Then she should have taken me."

"No," he said softly. "No, she shouldn't have."

Ourania didn't argue, but Damon could see tears in her eyes, and he knew she was dreadfully upset. It wasn't fair, per se, but he also knew that this was simply the way things went, sometimes. Perhaps, in time, Ourania would forget about it, or even forgive their parents for spoiling her desires to watch the potential destruction of the Tournament.

"D'you suppose there will be souvenirs?" she asked, wiping her face.

/-/

Draco held his breath, but it didn't take a full thirty seconds before Professor Dumbledore snatched up the next bit of parchment that flew out of the Goblet.

"The Champion for Durmstrang Institute will be…Viktor Krum!"

The Hall roared twice as loud for Krum, unsurprisingly. He was an international sensation, and so the whole of the Hall, regardless of the school they came from, were incredibly pleased to have the opportunity to see him perform. Draco could feel his own hands go slightly numb as he clapped for Krum vigorously.

As soon as Krum followed the Beauxbatons girl into the room behind the High Table, a third and final slip of parchment shot out of the Goblet of Fire, floating calmly into Dumbledore's hand. Students from all corners of the Hall sat forward with expectation. Draco let his eyes scan the room, wondering who would be selected.

"The Champion for Hogwarts School," Dumbledore read, "will be Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table exploded with a fervor and sound that Draco had never heard the like of before from their group. They were usually a rather subdued House, although perhaps that was because they had very little to celebrate. Draco noticed Diggory glanced back at the table after shaking Dumbledore's hand, before going behind the table, and then Draco noticed something that bothered him.

Catherine clapped, but less vigorously than her Housemates, and it seemed to Draco, strange though it might be, that Diggory had looked at her before going behind the table.

But that couldn't be it. Diggory was not stupid, and Draco knew full well only the utterly stupid would set their sights on Catherine Black for any reason, especially in full view of her father.

No, Draco thought. Diggory must have been looking at something or someone else. His friends, perhaps. Something he'd left at his seat. Something other than Catherine, because he wasn't a fool.

Draco clapped begrudgingly, thinking to himself that at least it wasn't a Gryffindor.

 **A/N: So, no surprises in the line-up, Catherine doesn't like Cedric Diggory, and the Yule Ball looms overhead. Excited? I'm excited.**

 **Review Prompt: Friendly reminder, in two chapters I'm announcing whether there will be a Part 3, so if you haven't voted, best do it quick! ALSO, who's going with whom to the ball, d'you reckon? ;)**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Does this mean Remus doesn't get a pairing at all? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: *coughs* To be honest, no. In Part 2, it just didn't fit anywhere, and I pondered it in plans for Part 3, but again, short of inventing someone for the pairing, I just couldn't do it. Bachelors aren't such a bad thing, and this time around he has all his friends, so he's not really lonely.**

 **Q: Which book is your favorite? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: EASY. Book 3. Five has a lot of emotional baggage for me, because losing Sirius was the first loss where I was old enough to understand it fully and I felt it very strongly. My grandfather died when I was eight, and I knew I was supposed to be sad so I put on sadness (very convincingly, I might add), but it was almost like he'd just moved away, you know? The true loss didn't hit me. I think it's often that way with real people, for me. I get much more attached to people I've never met and people in fiction. Sirius dying was like, the first of many very painful losses I suffered, a la Rowling.**

 **HOWEVER, Book 3 introduces me to all my favorite characters and plotlines (apart from Remus/Tonks shipping). Y'all are aware, I'm sure, that I focus very strongly on the Marauders, playing in that particular toybox. Voldemort's a far-off mess, so it's less of a good vs. evil battle and more of an old-fashioned whodunit. A thriller, not a quest. And let's be real, the Time-Turner and the heavy presence of Hermione over Ron always appealed to me.**

 **Conversely, Book 2 is my least favorite. Of all the characters I wanted to hit very, very hard, Lockhart tops the list for being so unbelievably insipid. The sad thing is, people like that are real. Also, there's relatively little Hermione, and too much Ron for me. It made me think of the adventure stories I despised, like Mark Twain style, or something like that. And Harry and Ron fumbling through it. I just kept thinking "but if you'd only do X, you'd have solved it ages ago!" AS it happens, my family prefer 1 and 2. Go figure.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	60. Sweet Things

**A/N: Bonus Two! You guys are crazy. I love you. This is your LAST CHANCE to vote. The next chapter, Bonus or Regular, and I will post whether or not I'm doing Part 3, and the margin of victory either way. Get your votes in now!**

 **-C**

Harry didn't know why he was so excited. It was a Hogsmeade day, just like all the other Hogsmeade days he'd done the year before. He had breakfast with Neville, Ron, and Hermione like every other day. He was walking down to the village like usual. But this was different, and he knew it.

Because this time Catherine was with them.

It had been so long since he'd last seen her out of uniform, he'd forgotten what her legs looked like. He had blinked at them when he first saw them, wondering why she was wearing such a short skirt in November. But then, Catherine didn't seem to notice things like temperature the way normal people did.

She was far, far from normal.

Hermione asked if she was cold, but Catherine shrugged as her only response.

The rest of her clique would be doing their own thing, for this first time, anyway. Oddly, Harry noticed that the Cotton girl had joined them, and Catherine waved at them lazily as they passed, brimming with eagerness to get to the village. Catherine seemed cool and serene, as usual, and didn't seem too bothered with everything.

"What are we doing first, then?" she finally asked when they were about twenty paces from the High Street.

"Chocolate," Ron and Harry said together, grinning, and Harry was happy to see that she instantly grinned as well.

He'd been wanting to take her to Honeydukes ever since he'd gone the year before. Catherine had a prodigious sweet tooth, and there were so many things she would want to buy.

"You're going to love this," he said happily, and he watched her with the rush of exited anticipation as Hermione opened the shop door.

Harry saw Catherine's face change as she stepped into the shop, with a kind of childlike wonder in her face that he hadn't seen in years. Her eyes grazed the shelves for a moment before she closed them and breathed in deeply. She moaned, and Ron twitched with surprise at the sound.

"It smells like heaven," she said, grabbing Harry's forearm in excitement. "Can we buy everything?"

"You don't want everything," Harry said, grinning. "You hate Acid Pops."

"Fair point," she said, opening her eyes and looking around, before tugging him over toward a huge shelf full of Honeydukes Best, her favorite. "D'you think we could buy all of these?"

"We could," Harry said, shrugging, "but we'd never get it all back to the castle."

His lips twitched at her disappointment, but she grabbed a basket and started tossing handfuls of chocolate bars into it, until it was about half full. Harry grabbed a second basket. She'd never be happy with just one basket, he knew.

"Look at the chocoballs," he said, nodding to an adjacent shelf, and watching her eyes widen again as she hurried over to check out the flavors. He couldn't understand the way he felt almost dizzy with watching her flit from shelf to shelf, shoving handfuls of candy into the basket, desperate to try everything. Even the way she squealed that they had Sugar Quills, his arms felt strangely light. Still, it was pleasant.

/-/

Ron slid into a chair on the far side of the table from Harry and Catherine, who had to have a whole chair just for all the chocolate they had purchased at Honeydukes. While it had been nice to see how excited she got with all the sweets, Ron couldn't help feeling a bit pained with the brutal reminder of how much wealthier she was than he could ever hope to be.

"So," he said, forcing a smile as Hermione and Neville returned with their butterbeers, "what d'you think the First Task will be?"

Catherine pursed her lips as she sifted through the bag of sweets, looking for a bar of Honeyduke's Best.

"Probably something where everyone could die," she said as though this were of little consequence.

"You know Cedric Diggory, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, it's just he seemed to say something to you when he was waiting for the selection."

Catherine shrugged, although not her usual shrug, and Ron felt a strange rush of dislike toward Diggory.

/-/

Neville walked with Harry and Catherine to the Shrieking Shack. Hermione had to get some more quills and Ron was ducking off to check out Zonko's, so the three of them had some quiet time as a trio, like when they were children.

"Uncle Remus had to go there every month?" Catherine asked, wrinkling her nose with disappointment and disgust. "It's awful."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Neville asked if Catherine was cold, because she'd shivered, and as she was saying she was quite fine, Harry was already pulling off his jacket and handing it to her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he gave her a stern look.

"Bloody chivalry," she said cheekily.

"Language," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Catherine snorted.

No, even as when they were children, Neville was still the odd one out. Harry and Catherine spent so much time doing things without him, and were used to talking without him around, so it was hard for them, he reasoned, to remember to talk to him when he was there. He put his hands on the fence and pressed down, putting all his weight on his hands and the balls of his feet.

Catherine pulled on the jacket, wrapping it around her snuggly, and she leaned her elbows on the fence, tilting her head like a dog considering something. He could almost picture her with a raised ear.

"D'you reckon we could find a way in?"

"I thought you said that passage led in."

"But it's under the Whomping Willow," she said, snorting again. Neville didn't know exactly what they were talking about, but he didn't feel right asking. "I meant a way that didn't involve us being turned into tiny, bloody pieces."

"I suppose we could," Harry said, frowning. "But given our last experience with forbidden areas, maybe it's not such a great idea. Who knows what's been living there since Uncle Remus left it last?"

Catherine's nose twitched and she said bitterly, "Who says it's forbidden? Is there a rule against it?"

"There's a fence," Neville said softly, and the other two looked at him as though he were stupid.

Of course, he thought, almost laughing at his not thinking of it sooner. Fences were nothing to these two.

/-/

Catherine didn't really think of it as ditching Neville, but she and Harry ditched Neville and started walking toward the hills, away from the village.

"I hope you didn't find it boring," Harry said, raising his eyebrows as she led him toward the hills.

Catherine laughed and shook her head.

The village was lovely, fascinating even, but she'd always preferred quiet spaces to crowded ones, and the hills looked lovely and solemn. She hadn't wanted to go alone, but bringing more than just Harry would have spoiled the effect.

"D'you think our families will come to see the Tournament?" she asked, smiling at Harry. She liked the idea of showing Caroline around Hogwarts.

"Maybe," Harry said, although she could tell that he was thinking of something else the moment she mentioned the Tournament. He hesitated before he said, softly, "Kitty, what did Diggory say to you?"

Catherine frowned, thinking of Cedric's smiling, handsome face as he leaned over to tell her she looked lovely. There was something in it she didn't like, not like it was just some compliment of her hairstyle or something.

"Doesn't matter," she said, smiling at Harry, knowing he didn't believe her. But he didn't press her, and they walked to the hills in silence.

/-/

Ginny sat down in the teashop with Luna, Rhea, and Ryana Cotton. She wasn't one for teashops, generally, but the other three girls seemed to be enjoying themselves, so that was something.

"Did you see how much chocolate Harry and Kitty had?" Rhea asked, smiling, as their teas were brought out.

All the girls nodded. It had been hard not to notice. It was like they'd bought half the shop. Ginny couldn't help thinking how nice it must be, to be able to purchase what they wanted without thinking about how little gold they would have left if they did.

Maybe that was why Catherine wanted to spend this first Hogsmeade visit with Harry and his friends, not having to think about whom she might offend with her purchasing.

"She seemed to be enjoying herself," Luna said, smiling. "I think I've enjoyed myself, too."

Before Ginny could say that she would have enjoyed herself more if they'd all been together, Ryana piped up, "I just want to say that I'm really chuffed to be able to be with you guys today. I really don't know what I would have done if you hadn't said I could come along."

At this, Ginny realized that what Ryana probably would have done was poke around the village, alone, slightly aimless. She felt a little less angry at Catherine, and instead resolved to include Ryana Cotton a bit more in their group.

/-/

On the way back to the castle, Rhea frowned slightly, seeing Cedric Diggory walking in their direction as though on a mission. She felt mildly puzzled, and then nervous when she realized he was actually approaching them.

"Ryana," he said, and Ryana's face turned red as she nodded that she heard him address her. "Have you seen Catherine?"

That was odd to Rhea. Nobody called Catherine by her full name, except sometimes when she was in trouble.

"Erm," Ryana said, looking around at the others. "N-no. S-she's…"

Ginny who seemed mildly exasperated, said, "She was with Harry Potter and his friends today."

Rhea saw Cedric's face shift for just the briefest of moments when Ginny said Harry's name. His nostrils twitched, his head jerked slightly back, and he blinked in that very particular way, like someone startled. Like Ginny had made to strike him and suddenly changed her mind.

"Oh," he said, as though he was considering some great possible truth. "I see."

Whatever he thought he saw, he didn't share it with the girls. Instead he wished them a happy day, and went back to his friends. Ginny asked what that was all about, and Ryana sighed, looking a bit sad.

"Cedric's been complimenting Kitty a lot," Ryana said breathlessly. "Like, a few times a week. And I think he asked if he could spend some time with her at Hogsmeade today, but she didn't really answer. She never really does. I'm immensely jealous. He's so attractive."

And suicidal, Rhea thought, wondering what Uncle Sirius would think of an older boy making such advances toward his daughter.

/-/

Jason sat with his closest friends in his father's office, all having tea. Jimmy, Dennis, Natalie, and Cora all sat around the table, and his father was stirring sugar into Cora's cup, just how she liked it. He passed the cup to her with a wink.

"I know it's tough when older students go to Hogsmeade," his father said, smiling at them. "But there's plenty of fun to be had at the castle, and it'll be your turn before you know it."

"Professor Black," Natalie said, smiling gently.

"Yes, Natalie."

"Have you ever done research at all?"

Jason watched a slight cloud go over his father's face, before he smiled a little and said, "Not as you're saying, I think. I've done research to be able to teach everything you lot need to know, and a little extra reading for my curiosity. But I've never done specific, detailed research on a topic. I…I find that a lot of history is war, and I got quite enough of that when I was your age."

Natalie frowned slightly, nodding thoughtfully as she picked up her tea cup and held it to her lips without drinking.

"Now," his father said, rubbing his hands together. "Biscuits, anyone?"

/-/

Jimmy was enjoying immensely how many extra people there were around the castle. Before the guests, it had seemed sort of large and empty, but now – although the foreign students only came in for meals and to use the library – there were enough people bumping about for him to feel that it wasn't so cold and quiet.

"You know what I'm jealous of?" Dennis said, running his finger down the list of homework they had coming due. The others all hummed that they didn't know what he was jealous of, although he'd already said three times that day. "Diggory and the other champions won't have to do exams. Totally unfair."

Jimmy didn't really think unfair was the right word for it, but he exchanged an amused glance with Jason who just shook his head in amusement. From what Jason said about his little sister, and what Jimmy had seen of the elder sister, Dennis's silliness was nothing, really.

"You know what I think?" Natalie said softly.

Dennis blinked at her with astonishment, as they had all been silent, before, when he'd made his comments about jealousy.

"What?" he asked.

"I think that with them risking their lives and doing all kinds of dangerous things, practicing incredibly difficult spells, that it's actually not unfair at all that the champions don't have to do exams."

Dennis's nostrils flared and he turned back to the list without comment, but Jason just looked at Natalie thoughtfully as she pulled out her History book, and Jimmy rubbed his eyes, grinning.

/-/

Hermione and Ron found Neville scratching his head in the middle of the High Street, looking around like he'd lost something.

"Are Harry and Kitty ready to go, then?" Ron asked.

Hermione noticed that he didn't have a Zonko's bag, and she made a mental note to ask Harry to get him something the next time they all came, subtly.

"I don't know," Neville said nervously. "I…I can't find them. I sort of lost them at the Post Office and now I can't find them."

"Alright," Hermione said, seeing he was distressed and trying to calm him with a gentle smile. "When was that, Neville?"

"About an hour and a half ago," Neville said, embarrassed.

Hermione exchanged a nervous glance with Ron. It wasn't so much that they were worried Hogsmeade was unsafe, but there was so much Harry and Catherine were capable of doing wrong in that span of time. All kinds of havoc and chaos they could bring down upon the villagers. Or perhaps worse, all kinds of places they could sneak off to where they weren't supposed to go.

"I've already…checked the Shack," he said, slightly abashed. "They were talking about whether or not they thought they could get in. But they're not there. I…I looked through gaps in all the windows. It's empty, and they didn't call back when I called out."

"Great," Ron said, rubbing his neck, looking around. "The Hog's Head, maybe?"

"No," Hermione said softly, frowning as she looked over at the hills. "Think of where they went the last time they got into trouble. Think nature."

/-/

When it started to clear out in the library, Natalie stretched and moved her head to ease some of the tension in her neck.

"Time to go back?" Jason asked softly, looking at her with those strikingly wise gray eyes.

"I think so," she said, glancing at her watch. "Soon, anyway. Have you got anything you want me to read?"

Jason hesitated, looking over the essay he was working on for Potions before saying, "No, it's not ready. Thanks."

Natalie nodded, looking around at the others to be sure they knew the offer was open to everyone, but they all shook their heads and looked a little pale, like their work wasn't going as well as they would like. She supposed she felt the same way about her essay, but for different reasons. She knew the essay was good, but she wanted so badly to impress Professor Black. She just had this feeling that he was the person who was going to be able to get her where she wanted to be in life. She had a very good sense about these things, and although she wasn't sure what she wanted to specialize in, Professor Black seemed like the kind of person who would help her with anything.

Not to mention, she loved his course.

"I think it's time," Dennis groaned. "Before I grow into the chair."

/-/

Harry groaned as he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly, disoriented as he tried to figure out why he felt so disoriented, and why his arse was numb. Come to think of it, his shoulder and arm were numb as well, and the base of his spine.

He felt a shifting beside him, and he turned to see Catherine waking, frowning with discontent. Her movement brought tingling to his numb arm and shoulder.

Then Harry recalled their sitting to talk, looking up at the cloud-covered sky. They must have fallen asleep. Hermione, Neville, and Ron were standing over them, concerned.

"I reckon it's getting a bit late, isn't it?" Catherine said, with no recognition of the concern. "Shall we head back, then?"

Although Harry knew the others wanted an explanation, he figured he could give it later. He stood, helping her to her feet before brushing off his trousers. Catherine primly brushed her hands over her skirt and then pulled his jacket more tightly about her, doing up the zip about halfway. It was a nice color for her, he decided, a kind of forest green.

"How long until dinner?" she asked, gliding away, leading the way back toward the village as though there was nothing more interesting to discuss than dinner, when it would be, and what might be served. Harry shook his head and smiled as the others looked at him with puzzlement, and he followed in Catherine's wake.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine have a lovely day at Hogsmeade, Cedric Diggory is interested in Catherine, and Jason's clique tries to make the most of being confined to the castle for their youth.**

 **Review Prompt: PLEASE take this opportunity to vote on Part 3. ALSO, if the Hogwarts Professors were bicycles, what colors would they be? You are prohibited from using people's House colors, unless you give non-House related reasoning in your review. ;)**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Harry end up with Catherine? (Guest)**

 **A: *cough* Well, without getting tooooo spoiler-y, I mean… Yes. They will. It will be more…complicated than that, both along the way and toward the end. Actually, I can't think of any point (even in Part 3) where it isn't more complicated than that. But the complications will be all various and sundry. Sooooo… Yes.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	61. The First Task

Ron settled into the stands with Neville and Hermione. Harry was sitting, predictably, with his parents, Professor Black, and Catherine and Jason.

"She's so pretty," Hermione said, almost longingly, looking up toward the group.

"Kitty?" Neville asked, picking at his cuticles as he looked down to the champion's tent.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, she is, but I was talking about Mrs. Potter. She's got such lovely hair, and such a kind face."

Ron glanced at Catherine, who was sitting between her father and Harry, holding her father's hand as she spoke rapidly to an amused Mrs. Potter. Sure, Harry's mom looked nice enough, but Ron thought she had nothing on Catherine.

"What order do you suppose they'll go in?" Neville asked anxiously.

"Oh, I expect it's randomized."

Ron glanced through the crowd and saw Ginny sitting with her usual clique, minus Catherine and plus Creevey and Cotton. Then he found Cora sitting with her clique, minus Jason and surprisingly, plus Brontes Lestrange. He felt strangely annoyed that his cousin was having a quiet conversation with the Lestrange boy, and that it didn't seem to be an argument. Ron was happy to put up with Draco Malfoy on occasion, for Harry's sake, but that was where he drew the line on Slytherins.

"Oh, here we go," Neville said, sitting up straighter. "Looks like Krum."

Hermione was licking her lips as Ron turned his attention to the arena.

There were dragons brought in for the first task, and from what Professor Dumbledore had explained to the crowd of the rules, the champion just had to retrieve a golden egg from the dragon's nest. It seemed simple enough to Ron, since the egg wasn't hidden or disguised. Then again, Charlie had said dragons were not only intelligent, but dragon mothers were also brutally protective.

Ron didn't really fancy being Cedric Diggory for the moment, that was for certain.

"What do you suppose they'll do?" Hermione asked, slightly breathless as Krum's name was called and he came out of the Champion's tent. "I mean, what kind of spells?"

"How the bloody hell should we know?" Ron asked, hoping he didn't sound too irritated. "Anyway, let's just watch, shall we?"

He glanced back up to where the Blacks and Potters sat, and he saw Catherine sitting forward slightly, holding her father's hand with both of hers. Ron turned his attention back to the dragons.

"The real trick will be not getting noticed," Neville said softly as the crowd watched Krum pull out his wand. "I suppose that's the focus, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, and Krum did a spell. The Dragon clawed slightly at its face, before going into a kind of convulsion.

"Oh!" Hermione said, seeming to recognize the curse. "Conjunctivitis Curse! Oh, but look, it's practically rampaging!"

Ron nodded eagerly, seeing the dragon's tail and back left foot effectively smash the other eggs as Krum carefully came forward to collect the golden one. He got it, but it seemed, from their vantage point, that every other egg was damaged.

"Is that against the rules?" he asked Hermione, who shrugged, looking a bit nervous.

Ron wasn't nervous. The lower Krum's score, the better the chance of a Hogwarts win. He didn't think the girl was much of a threat.

"Oh, look, the scores," Hermione said, gesturing.

From what they could tell, points were definitely taken off for the destruction of the other eggs, although bias was definitely at play. It didn't escape Ron's notice that Krum's Headmaster gave him a nine.

/-/

Aeson paced his bedroom, annoyed. His siblings, his cousins (bar Caroline) and practically half of England was at the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. His father had confirmed that morning that there would be dragons at the task, and he wanted so badly to be there, but his parents had agreed that he wouldn't go.

And it was terribly unfair.

Aeson thought about going anyway somehow, but he didn't have a ticket. Then he thought about sneaking away to Grimmauld Place and seeing Caroline, but she would only tease him, and it would end in a fight, and it was far too nice of a day to fight with his cousin.

Instead, he found a newspaper and began flipping through it absently. The reading level was more reasonable than anything on his father's shelf, and he wouldn't get in trouble for reading something he wasn't supposed to like if he broke into his father's study.

Nothing too good on the front pages, he thought with a pout. No explosions. No murders. No manhunts. Not even a mysterious robbery. Everything was about the champions, including a rather sordid-looking story from the most sordid reporter he knew of, Rita Skeeter.

He scanned the story, bored. Krum wasn't very interesting in interviews, the French girl gave very canned answers, but Skeeter seemed especially interested in Cedric Diggory, perhaps because he was the Hogwarts candidate.

Aeson read carefully as she speculated about his love life, including a supposed love affair with a "forbidden girl, younger, and as out of reach as Atalanta herself."

Whatever that meant.

/-/

Draco pulled his collar up as the next dragon was brought out. Blaise shifted beside him, leaning in to say, "You know Brontes is sitting with Gryffindors."

"He has long-time friends in that clique," Draco said, hardly interested in Brontes's behavior socially.

"Jason Black isn't sitting with them," Blaise insisted. "He's up with his father."

Exasperated, Draco turned his attention to the clique in question, and he saw that Brontes, not paying attention to the dragon at all, but rather carrying on a quiet conversation with Cora Prewett.

"Leave it, Blaise," Draco said, frowning slightly, looking away from them. "He's known Cora since before he can remember."

"I don't understand your extended network," Blaise said darkly. "The people your mother has mingling together…"

"Oh, my mother is hardly the center of it," Draco said, thinking of Catherine's family and how they seemed the epicenter of everything that defied boundaries and rules and order. "But no one asked you to understand. You were asked to leave it."

/-/

Ourania scratched her nose and turned over the newspaper article, passing it to her brother.

"He's cute," she said.

"Who?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "Not Krum."

"Gosh, no! No, Diggory."

Damon frowned, squinting and tilting his head to get a different angle on the picture of the three champions.

"Hmm," he said, scanning the article quickly. "Atalanta?"

"Who is that?" Ourania asked, rolling onto her back. "A singer or something?"

"No, mythology," Damon said, propping himself up. "A story of a young woman whose father said that if a man could beat her in a race, she would marry him. But she was so good, no man had ever been able to do it. Only a man who managed to outthink her, to coax her into slowing down without her realizing, was able to marry her."

Ourania frowned, thinking she didn't really like the story.

"What's the point, then?" she asked.

"Well, unattainable, maybe?" Damon said with a shrug. "Younger, unattainable."

The tone of his voice said there was something more, but he clearly didn't want to say, so Ourania didn't press him.

/-/

Draco licked his lips as the French girl came out, pulling out her wand with a graceful motion and flipping her blonde over her shoulder. She did what seemed to be a complex kind of charm, and she did it repeatedly, seeming to put the dragon into a kind of trance.

Not for the first time did Draco wonder if the girl was not entirely human. Especially after the Quidditch World Cup and the Bulgarian mascots, it had come to his mind that she might be, at least in part, a Veela. Draco wondered if such a thing happened very often, or if there was a danger to the human in a match.

Well, unnaturally beautiful and charming woman, of course there was a danger to a man in that relationship, he thought bitterly.

He tried to focus on the task as the girl moved forward slowly, carefully, toward the nest. Almost like sirens, Draco thought, frowning.

He'd been thinking about his future unfortunately very often of late, mostly because his father had been mentioning it in every letter. Mostly, his marriage prospects.

Draco had long thought that as long as he didn't have to marry Pansy Parkinson, it really didn't matter, but now he wasn't so sure. All of the people his father suggested made him uncomfortable, from unattractive harpies in the years below, mindless girls like Daphne and Pansy, and people who were too much like siblings, like Adrasteia and Catherine.

More than that, for different reasons, Draco had a feeling that if he married either Adrasteia or Catherine, he would have to watch his back constantly, and that was no way to live.

The question was, who could he marry who would satisfy his father's high standards of breeding, eligibility, class…and who would also seem to Draco as a suitable person to spend a lifetime with.

The list had to be incredibly short, when it was finally made. He had enough to think about with focusing on trying to beat out Hermione Granger to top of the year.

"OH!" the crowd cried, as Fleur Delacour took the egg and tried to retreat too quickly. The trance she'd induced was too weak, and her robes were singed as she ran.

/-/

Lily watched the way Sirius hugged Catherine to him with an almost clinging closeness. The children didn't know yet, but Lily knew Sirius was anxious with the idea of there being a Yule Ball, which was a tradition of the Tournament. Yes, technically, Catherine wasn't old enough to go without an older student asking her, but Lily had noticed the allusions of the Skeeter woman in the morning paper.

Atalanta. The girl whose father set a seemingly impossible task before someone could marry his daughter. Of course, it wasn't a very good allusion, Lily thought. It smacked of poor understanding. Atalanta's father created the challenge because he knew his daughter would never marry unless he forced her hand, and created a way to find a "worthy" suitor, not as a way to keep his daughter from suitors altogether. Sirius, though, he wanted to keep Catherine pure and chaste, probably until he died.

It wasn't rational, but Lily found that fatherly love rarely was.

Whatever the truth of the matter (for Rita rarely printed actual truth), there were enough older boys, including one of the Weasley twins and Harry's friend Ron, who were interested in Catherine that Sirius could be nervous about the possibility she would be asked to the Ball and he would have to watch her dance with older boys.

Or any boys, really.

So for now, he was holding onto her for dear life and perhaps praying that no boy would be foolish enough to ask her.

/-/

James watched eagerly as Cedric Diggory, the last champion to be called out, walked out to his dragon, looking surprisingly cool. James really wasn't sure how Cedric could be related to Amos, who was about half as good-looking and a quarter as intelligent, and really didn't have a brave bone in his body.

"Hufflepuff, isn't he?" Lily asked, as though there were nothing in the question, but James saw Sirius's jaw twitch at it, and he also saw Catherine tense.

"Yes," Catherine said softly, almost too softly for James to hear from the other side of his wife. "Our Seeker."

Harry was frowning thoughtfully, and the only person in the group who didn't have a reaction of any kind to the question was Jason, who was sitting on the other side of his father, leaning forward, watching with interest and swinging his legs slightly.

James licked his lips and turned his eyes back down to the dragon, where Diggory was trying to distract the beast. He Transfigured (rather impressively) a boulder into a dog in an attempt to keep the dragon occupied.

/-/

Cara had received a note from Sirius expressing his fears that Catherine might be asked to the Ball over Christmas, and what he should do to keep the boys away. She sighed, destroying the note before making a snack for Caroline, who was sulking.

There was just no way to explain to Sirius that by trying to keep boys away, he would only drive Catherine toward them.

/-/

Remus stood abruptly when he saw Cedric receive severe burns when the dragon finished with his Transfigured dog very quickly. It had been a clever, impressive bit of magic, but it wasn't a sufficient distraction, obviously, and Remus could almost feel the heat of those burns as Cedric screamed.

The experts were calming the dragon as Madam Pomfrey came out to treat the burns.

They would heal, Remus knew, but his arm would never be quite the same, and it would take several days to heal completely. He sat down and clapped for the scores, but he felt a bit numb.

"Unfortunate," Severus said dryly. "But he will live. And unfortunately for Sirius, he will be fully healed in time for that stupid festivity."

Remus tensed.

"What do you know that Sirius doesn't?" Remus said firmly.

Severus shrugged slightly and smirked.

Remus knew Severus was in the habit of occasionally scanning the minds of distracted students, just on the surface, to determine how best to discipline them for their inattention. It was possible that in scanning Cedric's mind (although Remus hadn't noticed him being inattentive), Severus found some kind of interest in Catherine lingering there.

It would be natural, Remus supposed. She was, like her mother, an uncommonly attractive girl, and even more than her mother she had an easy charm. She had her father's vibrancy and confidence, coolness and almost aristocratic boredom that people found so enticing. Remus didn't have to have the ability to read minds to know that many of the male students were interested in her, at least a little bit, but Cedric Diggory?

"Give him a bit of warning, at least, will you?" Remus said with a sigh.

Severus raised his eyebrows and said, "Do you honestly believe, Remus, that it would be prudent for student safety to give Sirius Black absolute evidence a boy is interested in his daughter in a romantic or physical way?"

Well, there was that.

Remus made a begrudging agreement with this, and glanced up to Catherine, who was leaning over the stands to chatter eagerly to the Weasley twins, who had made their way up to pay their respects to Harry's parents (and probably mostly for George to flirt with Catherine, rather bravely right under her father's nose). The look George was giving her was something like how James used to look at Lily, when he first started pestering her. George wasn't stupid enough for that – Fred perhaps, but not George – with her father around, or perhaps at all, which was all the better for him.

"Even if Diggory does not ask her," Severus said coolly, "she will be asked by an older student."

"Who?"

"Likely many."

"D'you reckon she'll go to the ball, then?" Remus asked, and Severus actually rolled his eyes.

"I do not speculate on matters of teenage romance, Remus, even with my best students. Whether or not she goes will depend entirely on whether or not she decides to accept any of the offers, doesn't it?"

Fair enough.

/-/

After the task, Colin went with Ginny to say hello to Catherine and Harry and Harry's parents. He thought vaguely that Harry's mother was very pretty before saying hello to Catherine, who was holding her father's hand happily.

"Wasn't that cool?" she asked, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "Daddy, when's the next task?"

"Next term, Kitty-Cat," her father said absently, frowning at someone over Colin's head. Then his expression changed at the sight of Colin and he grinned. "Hey, Colin. Enjoy the show?"

Colin shrugged and said, "I think it would have been better if Diggory hadn't been barbecued."

Ginny's lips twitched and she shared an unreadable look with Catherine, who snuggled closer to her father.

"Mum, Dad," Harry said, after a nudge from his father. "This is Colin Creevey. He's in Kitty's year, and his brother is in Jason's year. Muggle-born."

"Oh, I see," Harry's mother said warmly. "Wondrous, isn't it? Something new every day."

Colin realized that Mrs. Potter was Muggle-born as well, and he nodded, telling her about his father's work as a milkman, and how exciting it had been to learn how to make his photographs move.

/-/

Kevin Whitby walked with his classmate, Laura Madley, back up to the school.

"I don't think I like this tournament," Laura said softly. "It's very brutal, isn't it?"

He nodded, although he hadn't really minded. Laura was a somewhat sensitive girl. Or, perhaps sensitive wasn't the right word. She just preferred things she could pick apart with her mind, and he supposed that violent emotional, primitive things were a bit beyond her emotional capacity. Still, seeing what happened to Diggory was a bit disturbing. But the professors had assured them it would all heal fully, soon enough.

"I'm glad it's a while until the next one," she said, rubbing her jaw slightly for a moment before letting her hand drop. "I don't think it's healthy, you know. All this excitement around people getting hurt."

Kevin shrugged, but he did partially agree. The most disturbing thing was how excited some of the students got over the gore. He certainly wouldn't want to be Diggory at this moment, knowing that his death would serve as entertainment for the masses, everyone waiting and wondering what daring feat he would do next.

"Have you got plans for Christmas yet?" he asked, knowing it was better for her to not think about the Task anymore.

"Yeah," she said, shrugging. "I think I'm going to stay, at least this year. I want to see what the castle looks like at Christmas. I bet it's beautiful."

He smiled to himself. She just wanted to have the library when it wasn't so crowded.

 **A/N: So… The Task went on as usual, Diggory is definitely interested in Catherine, and Sirius is freaked out by the idea of boys touching any part of his daughter. Naturally.**

 **GREAT NEWS. Part 3 is on. It won a whopping 90% of the vote, and I've already begun the prewrite and I'm SO EXCITED. Fair warning, this story ends a few years after Harry and Catherine graduate, and Part 3 takes place in 2023-4, so you will definitely need to pay attention in the first few chapters, tracing the changes over the twenty-year jump.**

 **Review Prompt: As the Yule Ball will be the beginning of some of my darker themes (HUGE HINTS ABOUND), pick a dancing partner for Kitty that her father would absolutely NOT be okay with under any imaginable circumstances. If someone guesses right, you'll get an extra special bonus dedicated to that person. :D**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Which film is your favorite? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: As with the books, the third film is my favorite, but for different reasons. My favorite actor and love of my life (David Thewlis) was introduced in this film. My favorite director directed it. It was the last and best John Williams score in the series. The darker themes were a triumph. It kept better to what we were used to from the books without the almost naïve nature of the earlier films. And yes, there were cheesy moments (Hermione looking at her hair, for one), but I can't think of one of those films that doesn't have at least ONE line I can't stand. Like Harry's line to Lucius in the second one about how he'll always be around to save the day. Lucius's was well-delivered, but Harry's response was just too much. Especially for a twelve-year-old. And in the fifth film, after the epic battle we get this really dark moment where Voldemort's possessing Harry, and then we get a super-cheesy and poorly-delivered line about how Harry feels sorry for Voldemort because he's never felt love or friendship.**

 **As I said, about one or two a film…I try not to whine.**

 **Conversely, least favorite film is the fourth one. I'm not really action-y at all. The second one is cute, and Lockhart was so cringe-worthy, and Lucius is a wonderful introduction. But I felt that Four was where we really had to start chopping away large sections of the book, and the way they did the dragon scene (while a wonderful triumph of film) was just not what I wanted. They tried to make everything bigger. The lake was cool, but you didn't get to see enough of it because they wasted so much time on the dragons. Cedric was poor casting, Cho was too shy and retiring (which she was never in the books at all), and the way they did the firecalls from Sirius was NOT the way I wanted those to look.**

 **Q: Is Cho Chang going to be a subplot? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: She is! A small one, mind, spanning a relatively short number of chapters, but because Cedric's a subplot, Cho almost has to be. I'm hoping y'all will like the way I've twisted the Cedric/Cho plots to fit my little world, here. I must say, I've been rather pleased with how it turned out.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	62. Braving the Packs

**A/N: Some reviews to Part One have earned us bonus chapters! Enjoy Bonus chapter 1!**

 **-C**

When Professor McGonagall announced that there would be a ball, at first Harry thought it was a joke. He very quickly realized, from a stern look she gave Seamus when he sniggered, that she was dead serious, and that students were expected to wear their dress robes at this occasion.

"Students years four and up will be able to attend, and younger students if they are asked by an older student."

Harry's stomach dropped as he realized why Uncle Sirius had been on edge for some time. If an older student asked Catherine, and she said yes, she'd be going to the Yule Ball. And in all reality, Harry couldn't imagine her saying no to someone like George Weasley or Ron, because the prospect of a party would appeal to her.

"I expect you to behave with decorum," she said sternly, "as your behavior reflects directly on Hogwarts, and on Gryffindor House."

As soon as they were released from Transfiguration, the gossiping began, girls whispering in the corridors, giggling in their packs, and Harry realized just how difficult it would be to find someone to go with. How was he supposed to find a girl alone and ask her to go if they were going to insist on being together constantly, waiting to be asked?

"This'll be madness," Neville said softly, leading the way to lunch. "How does one even ask a girl to a ball?"

"No idea," Ron said, frowning. Harry had a feeling he was working up courage to ask Catherine, before his brother did it. Smart money would be on George, Harry was sure. George didn't have enough sense to have healthy fear of Uncle Sirius.

"It will be interesting," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you boys all have someone in mind?"

Did Harry have someone in mind? He supposed he'd like to go with Cho Chang, if she would go with him, if he could figure out how to ask her. He was certain they would have a good time.

"I've got an idea or two," Neville said, going slightly pale, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry wondered how long it would take Neville to ask Hermione, and whether Ron would tease him when he did.

"Ron?" Harry asked, more to bring attention away from Neville. Only when he shifted attention did he realize it was a poor idea, because Ron's eyes immediately darted fearfully toward the Head Table, where Uncle Sirius was sitting, frowning out at the students with a watchful eye, as though daring all of the male populace to ask his daughter and see how far it got them.

"Oh, he doesn't look happy, does he?" Hermione said, frowning up at the Head Table. "I expect Kitty won't be going to the Ball."

Harry and Neville snorted, and Harry said, "Trust me, Hermione. Kitty will be going. Kitty will want to go, and so it doesn't really matter what it takes. She will be there."

Hermione looked as though she were about to say something, but she thought better of it when they all sat down for lunch. She didn't believe in spoiling meals.

/-/

Brontes heard the announcement of the ball, but he found it all very dull. He certainly wouldn't be going, and if boys had any sense, his sister wouldn't be going, either.

"Have you read the paper on the First Task?" Draco asked, putting the article down for others to see it. "That Skeeter woman is ridiculous."

"We knew that already," Blaise said lazily. "I don't know why you bother even reading that dross."

"Are you going to ask someone to the Ball, Draco?" Pansy asked as she past, batting her eyelashes luridly. Brontes fought the urge to roll his eyes as Draco's nostrils flared. He ignored her admirably, but then, he'd been doing it for years.

When the girls had walked by, Blaise leaned forward and said, "You really ought to ask somebody, though. She won't give you rest until you are fixed with somebody else."

Draco nodded wearily and he said, "Kitty's already promised to find me someone suitable. I trust her judgment."

Brontes did as well.

/-/

Dean's hands felt slightly sweaty at the thought of asking someone to the Yule Ball, but he knew he had to get it over with quickly, before everyone worth taking was already accounted for. He decided to wait for dinner, but when he saw her surrounded by her friends at the Ravenclaw table, Dean knew he'd have to wait until after dinner.

In the common room after dinner, Dean sat down across from Ginny at a little table by the window, where she was getting out her History homework.

"Did you need something, Dean?" she asked, smiling at him. "It's just that Colin and I were going to do homework, and there's only two chairs."

"I won't be here long," he said, shrugging. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me."

Ginny's eyebrows raised, she tilted her head slightly as though considering him, and then she said, "Sure, that'd be fun."

"Cool," he said, grinning and standing again. "Oh, do you think any of your friends will be interested in going with Seamus?"

This time she hesitated, her mouth twisting slightly as she thought over her friends.

"Maybe Ryana Cotton? She's very nice."

Well, Dean hadn't expected her to offer up Catherine Black, and something was better than nothing. Cotton had always been pleasant enough, and she wasn't ugly like some girls were.

"Ask her, will you?" he said. "I'll let Seamus know I may have something for him."

Ginny said she certainly would, and Dean went upstairs to get his own homework started. He usually preferred working in quiet. Seamus was there, and Harry and Ron.

"You look happy," Ron said, teasing. "Asked someone to the Ball, have you?"

"Yeah, I have, actually," Dean said, realizing for the first time that he probably should have talked to Ron before asking his sister. "Um, don't be angry, Ron, but I'm going with Ginny. I figured she'd be fun to talk to, and it wouldn't be as hard to ask as it would with some of the older girls. Plus…who wants to be stuck with Lavender for a whole night, right?"

Ron's face went a bit purple for a moment, and then his ears went quite bright, and Harry and Seamus exchanged a nervous look. It was entirely possible that he didn't want to have anyone take his sister, unrealistic as that was, really. A lot of third year girls would be asked, Catherine Black almost certainly, and Ginny was a very pretty, popular girl. Surely Ron would prefer Dean taking her to someone they didn't like.

Perhaps this thought crossed Ron's mind as well, and he took a deep breath and said, "Well, don't do anything daft, then."

"Of course," Dean said, and the tension in the room lifted, ever so slightly.

/-/

Lucius was pleased to still have a few things that were his, a few secrets from his wife. Oh, not the house, of course. Narcissa would never be silly enough not to know that he had a house in London. All the great families did, because how else would they keep an eye on what was going on in the Ministry?

No, it was the one place Narcissa would not expect him to go to do such business, and she would not look for him.

"So, Miss Skeeter," he said, gesturing for her to sit. "I trust you've left your quill at home?"

"As promised," the horrible harpy said, narrowing her eyes. "Are you sure this is going to be worth my while? After all, there's an awful lot on at Hogwarts at the moment, and I don't want to miss a moment of it."

"Aside from the fact that Albus Dumbledore has banned you from the grounds," he said dryly, "I thought it might help for you to…focus your efforts. Certainly, it must be difficult for you to choose the right place to hear if you're trying not to be seen."

"I'm listening."

Lucius smiled to himself, sitting back in his chair and beginning his information to finally get the job done. When the law fails you, sometimes, he knew, you had to take a different tack.

/-/

Ryana was surprised when Ginny Weasley sat down across from her at breakfast and said, "Hey, do you want to go to the Ball?"

"Erm," Ryana said, eyes wide, and Catherine snorted.

"She's not asking you, pet. She's letting you know someone wants to go with you."

Slightly relieved, Ryana asked who, and Ginny said, "Seamus, Gryffindor. I'm going with Dean."

"Oh, really?" Catherine asked, grinning. "Good on you! I think I'll have to set up Rhea with Draco, then. I did promise, and I don't think he and Luna would be the smartest possible match. He's already fairly comfortable with Rhea, anyway."

Ryana said that she would go with Seamus, since she would have a friendly face or two there, and then when Catherine ended up going (as she almost certainly would), Ryana wouldn't have to spend the night alone, wondering how much fun it would all be.

/-/

Harry and Neville decided to pay Hagrid a visit, as Hermione often went to see him, and he might have some idea of how to get her to go to the Ball with Neville.

He seemed distracted, as he had since the other students had come. It was no mystery, really, Harry supposed. Hagrid was very interested in the very large woman who was the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy. Still, he seemed to be able to spare them enough of his attention to advise Neville to just be frank.

"She'll thank ya fer it."

Harry supposed Hermione, of all girls, might.

/-/

Ron and Harry sat two tables over in the library. It wasn't snooping, strictly speaking, and really, Neville was the first of them to brave the terrible divide. They could hear him awkwardly clearing his throat, and Ron crossed his fingers under the table.

"Oh, hi, Neville," Hermione said, softly, but still brightly. Harry and Ron exchanged anxious glances. "Have a seat. Sorry. Here."

Ron could picture her sliding the massive stack of books over, making room for Neville to sit down and still see her.

"Was there something you wanted?" she asked kindly.

She really did have a very kind voice, when she wasn't instructing someone else on what they were doing wrong. Ron supposed that was something, although he still didn't understand why Neville fancied her.

"Ah, yeah, actually."

Pause.

"What, exactly?" she prompted, curious, but still kind.

"Sorry, erm. I was actually wondering whether…"

His voice trailed softer into a kind of nervous mumble, and Harry shook his head, covering his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry, Neville. I didn't hear that last bit."

"Oh, well. I… wondered whether you might possibly…. Whether you could perhaps want…. Maybe you might like to go with me, possibly?"

"Go with you where?" she asked, puzzled. "Oh, like to the Ball? You want me to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

"Erm, yeah. If you wouldn't mind awfully."

Ron snorted, and Harry stamped on his foot violently.

"I'd be delighted Neville," she said softly, and then, raising her voice slightly, "and I'm sure Harry and Ron could learn a thing or two from you about polite modesty."

He couldn't hold in his sniggering this time, no matter how violently Harry trod on his foot, and Neville wandered over to them, grinning like a fool and not even noticing Hermione had quite blatantly been aware of their listening in on his asking.

"You two next, I guess," he said, almost dreamily. "Hey, wouldn't it be something if Harry could get Cho and you took Kitty, Ron?"

Ron felt his ears go hot and he spluttered that he wasn't thinking of any such thing, but he knew it was pointless. Everyone seemed to know that he wanted to take Catherine Black to the Yule Ball, and it didn't really matter that she was a million times over out of his league. He supposed he was doomed to face the humiliation of asking her, regardless.

"It would definitely be something," Harry said slowly, "but I doubt it'll happen."

"Oh, just believe in yourself, Harry," Neville said happily. "Worked for me."

Ron snorted again, but he knew Harry hadn't been nervous about his chances of getting Cho to say yes. He knew, as they all knew, that Catherine Black would have absolutely no interest in going with Ron.

/-/

Catherine licked her lips and curled up in her favorite corner of the common room with a book, ignoring the stares. She was not naïve. She knew full well what Rita Skeeter had been insinuating in her article, and now with the announcement of the Yule Ball, she'd been increasingly on edge. Almost as though aware she was willing him to walk right past her, Cedric Diggory sat down next to Catherine, smiling at her over the top of her book.

"Hey, could I ask you something?"

"Always free to ask me whatever you'd like," she said, hoping the tightness she felt didn't make her sound rude. Cedric was an alright sort of bloke, but she didn't want him to humiliate himself like this.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me. I mean, we'd have to open the dancing, but that would be so bad."

With a sigh, Catherine closed her book, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back on the wall. It was unavoidable, now. Some people just had no proper sense of self-preservation.

"No, Cedric. Thanks, but no."

"Erm, sorry," he said, and she could almost hear him blushing. "I, erm, thought you'd want to go to the Ball."

"I would absolutely love to go to the Ball," she said honestly, wishing he would stop digging himself into a hole. Surely the whole of the common room was listening. "I don't really want to go with you. You're nice, but it would be so dreadfully boring."

She opened her eyes, barely taking a moment to register his polite nod and his embarrassed flush before walking to her dormitory to finish her chapter, Ryana hurrying along after, obviously hoping to gossip. But Catherine had absolutely no wish to discuss the matter further. What was done was done.

/-/

When Ginny had made the final arrangements for Seamus to take Ryana to the Ball, she immediately began thinking about Luna, Rhea, and Catherine. Specifically, she wondered who would ask Catherine. She didn't think it would be just anyone, as only someone brave would dare ask her, knowing her father was bound to make the life hell of anyone who did take her to the Ball.

Still, Ginny reasoned, where beauty and money combined, there were always those silly enough to try their luck.

/-/

Rhea agreed to go with Draco if he asked, although she would never have expected him to ask her. Still, she didn't feel any surprise when he sat down beside her in the Charms corridor, looking around at passersby lazily.

"I expect Kitty's spoken with you," he said.

"She has," Rhea said slowly.

"So, will you go with me to the Yule Ball?"

"I will. But I have to ask, why did you have Kitty set up something for you?"

He smiled tightly and said, still without looking at her, "Kitty understands how hideously pushy many of my housemates are, specifically one Pansy Parkinson. She and I agreed I would have a better time if she found me a suitable date, and I think she wanted to be certain all of her closest friends were asked." He picked absently at his thumbnail. "I don't suppose she's got a date yet, has she?"

"Not as I'm aware," Rhea said, shrugging. "Ginny and Ryana have. Maybe she's waiting for Luna to find a date, or she's waiting for someone particular to ask."

"Like Diggory?" he asked, sneering.

Rhea laughed lightly, gathered up her things and said, "No, Draco. If Diggory asked, Kitty would turn him down. Just because someone attractive finds her attractive doesn't mean she's going to return the favor. She's got very high standards, Kitty. She'd much rather have fun than be with someone who looks good."

Draco Malfoy nodded, waved, and the two of them walked away from each other as though they'd undergone some kind of business transaction. Rhea supposed, in a way, they had. She ran into Luna on her way to the library, and Luna quirked a pale eyebrow.

"Did Malfoy ask, then?"

"Yeah, I've got a date," Rhea said absently. "I'll have to write home, see if I can't get some dress robes sent over."

"Maybe your parents will buy you new ones."

"My parents?" Rhea said, smiling. "Unlikely. Uncle Gideon? Quite possibly. He does love spoiling us with this sort of thing. Hey, do you know if Kitty's got a date yet?"

"She's turned down three people already," Luna said softly, "and I heard some Hufflepuffs saying she actually turned down Cedric Diggory about an hour ago. If she keeps on at this rate, she'll be the only girl in Hogwarts not going."

"I doubt that," Rhea said, grinning at the memory of Catherine coolly turning down the boy from Beauxbatons who had heard her surname and immediately asked her to the Ball. Catherine was a cruel person by nature, but she had been particularly brutal in her dismissal of the boy, and the amusement of his friends was nothing to the rumors that spread throughout the school immediately after.

Between fear of Professor Black and fear of Catherine, Rhea was surprised there were any sane boys left willing to ask her to the Yule Ball.

"Well, then," Luna said, "maybe she won't be the only one to stay home."

 **A/N: So, Ginny's going with Dean, Rhea's going with Luna, Neville's going with Hermione, and Catherine's denying the male population of Hogwarts thus far.**

 **Review Prompt: Still no guesses on who her father will NOT want her dancing with (except someone said Cormac, and while that's not the answer, I did laugh). So, that question stands. Also, Harry thinks smart money's on George. Who's your money on?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is anything exciting going to come from James's bored househusband-ness? Another Potter baby? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: OMG, the world couldn't handle another Potter baby. Excuse me while I die of laughter. I did consider having them have more children, but there were already so many kids, and I sort of see Lily and James as one-or-two baby people. And what with Lily's research, easier if they stop at the one.**

 **As far as whether anything interesting will result…eventually. I won't spoil what. But James also gets to be the one who has time on his hands to ponder and see, so that'll be useful for the parents later.**

 **Q: Has Kitty realized that it was Harry who got her the chocolate last Valentine's Day? (gr8rockstarrox)**

 **A: Not yet, and she won't for some time. It's one of those things that's going to hit her way later, and she's going to be like, "Why did I not see that at the time?" They've got a lot to go through before she starts looking back instead of forward.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	63. An Awkward Predicament

**A/N: Bonus Chapter 2 for this week! Enjoy! Only five reviews away from a third, and plenty of days to go!**

 **-C**

Draco told Blaise he had a date, and from there the whole thing seemed smoother. The girls who were the most problematic for him slinked away into wherever they went to gossip bitterly about people they didn't like, and Draco could focus again on his studies.

He was surprised when, one day, sitting in the library, he overheard Harry's voice asking someone if he could sit down for a moment.

Realizing what this was almost certainly signifying, Draco leaned forward slightly. This could certainly be fodder for teasing Harry later.

"Sure," a soft, feminine voice said, and Draco frowned as he struggled to recognize it. Certainly not Catherine, but beyond that he couldn't be certain.

"I was wondering…whether you wanted…whether you might want to go to the Ball with me."

Well, that was right out with it. Draco was almost proud. He hadn't thought that Harry would have that kind of guts in him, where girls were concerned. Apart from Catherine and Granger, Harry wasn't really one to socialize with girls.

"Oh," the girls said, almost nervously. Was she nervous because she was going to say yes, or because she was going to say no? "Oh, well, I'd like to, Harry, but I've already said yes to someone else."

Draco couldn't decide if he was amused or sympathetic. Maybe a bit of both.

"Oh," Harry said. "Oh, right then. That's…that's fine. Wh-who…?"

"Oh, Cedric Diggory," the girl said. "He asked me yesterday, and I said yes."

Yesterday. Harry hadn't missed his mark by much. Draco licked his lips and wondered why Diggory left it so late. Had he really been turned down by Catherine recently? If so, if the rumors were accurate, then he hadn't wasted much time asking someone else. Draco decided his curiosity was too great, and he gathered up his things, walking out the direction the voices had come from, one, two shelves before he saw Cho Chang leaning over her books, alone. The voice fit with Chang, Draco mused, but Harry must have already retreated. Picking up his pace, he caught up with Harry just outside the doors to the library, and he said, smirking, "Better luck next time, Potter."

"Shut it," Harry grunted. "Not polite to listen in."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same."

"Are you really going with Rhea Prewett?" Harry asked, hastily changing he topic.

Draco smirked deeper and said, "Yeah, I am. Kitty arranged it. You should tell her of your woes, Potter. Maybe she'll set you up with Looney Lovegood, if you're nice."

He winked, and Harry growled lightly before hurrying away up toward the towers, knowing Draco had no good reason to follow him. Almost as soon as Harry was out of sight, Draco did feel quite sorry for him. Draco imagined it wasn't pleasant to be turned down by one's first choice (or any choice, come to that). Of course, he thought, grinning again, it was something Diggory and Harry shared, the feeling of being turned down by their first choices.

/-/

Natalie found the whole thing about the Yule Ball to be rather dull, since she wasn't going to go. No fourth year boy would ask her, so the most interesting thing about it was trying to guess who would go with whom.

To everyone's surprise, Catherine Black sat down with her brother, between the group Natalie sat with and the group of Harry Potter and his friends, and Natalie looked up at her, feeling a stab of envy. Her hair was so pretty.

"Harry, what's got you pouting?" Catherine asked, her eyes dancing with laughter. "You look positively downtrodden."

"I am not," Harry said, frowning, poking at his kippers with even more violent actions of his fork.

Jason and Natalie exchanged a glance over the pumpkin juice. Harry had been more than a little bit pouty that morning, but no one had been brave enough to ask why.

/-/

Hermione shifted nervously as Catherine Black raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Really?" she said, coolly. "Because usually you prefer eating your food to spearing it into mush."

Harry's nostrils flared with a twitch, but he set his jaw stubbornly and said nothing about what was bothering him. Finally, in a soft voice, Neville said, "Harry got turned down for the Ball."

"Oh, is that all?" Catherine said, grinning. "Don't take it so personally, Harry. I've turned down, what, half a dozen guys already. Doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you."

"She didn't say she didn't want to go with you, either," Hermione added bracingly, hoping that this would finally cheer him up. "Just that she'd already said yes to someone else."

"See?" Catherine said, putting fresh kippers on his plate without being asked. "That's encouraging. Maybe she'll dance with you. Who's she, by the way?"

"Cho Chang," Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, the first words apart from variations on him being fine that he'd said since telling them the story the night before. "She's going with Diggory."

Hermione saw Catherine pale slightly, glance over at the Ravenclaw table with a frown, and then put a few kippers on her own plate.

"Well," Catherine finally said, "if that's the case, then it's my fault, and the least I can do is go with you."

"Sorry?" Harry said, look at her with alarm.

She looked levelly back at him as she put ketchup on her sausages and said, "Sure. I told Diggory I wouldn't go with him, so he had to go for his second choice. Thus your first choice was already taken when you went to ask, and it's my fault. If I'd said yes to Diggory, or kept him hanging for a day or two, she'd still have been available. Thus, we're going to the Yule Ball together."

"Erm, we are?" he asked, glancing nervously at the Head Table.

Hermione couldn't blame him. She didn't want to incur Professor Black's wrath, and she didn't expect even Harry would be immune from it.

"Yes, of course we are," Catherine said plainly, winking at her brother. "At least we'll be sure to have fun together." She perked up at the sight of Professor Black passing by with Professor Lupin. "Daddy!" she called out. Both men paused, turning to look at her. "Daddy, I'll need dress robes."

Her father paled in almost the same way Catherine had done a moment or two prior, and he said, with a nervous smile, "Why do you need dress robes, darling?"

"Harry and I are going to the Yule Ball together."

Professor Lupin coughed, turning away to cover his face, and Professor Black's eyes went wide with horror.

"Harry asked you to the Yule Ball?"

"Don't be silly, Daddy. I told him we were going together. So I'll need new dress robes."

Her father hesitated for a moment before looking down at Harry, his eyes narrowing.

"Are you sure you want to go to that silly thing, Kitty-Cat?" her father asked in a measured voice.

"Yes, Daddy," Catherine said, with a smile. "Quite sure."

With a resigned sigh, Professor Black said that he would see what her mother turned up with, giving Harry a look of warning before walking away with a still-coughing Professor Lupin being dragged after him.

/-/

Aeson read his brother's letter with some interest, some jealousy. He'd always been curious about Durmstrang. They had more professional duelists come from there than any other place in the Western world, and Aeson wished he could meet their Headmaster and get some information from him.

"A letter from your brother?" his mother asked, dotingly. "Has Adrasteia written you lately?"

"No," Aeson said quickly.

Not that he particularly wanted her to.

/-/

"You're going with Harry?" Draco said, grinning. "I bet your father loved that."

Catherine shrugged. Draco wondered if she fully understood just how many boys would be bombarding her with attentions if her father weren't a professor. A fair few Slytherins whispered their thoughts on what a good wife she would make, if not for the…unfortunate attachment of her very powerful and protective father.

"Well, Ron asked Luna basically ten minutes after Daddy said he'd get me dress robes, so we're all going. Won't that be lovely?"

Draco blinked. It hadn't occurred to him, until she said that, that he would be expected to spend time with the Gryffindors because of his having asked Rhea. He supposed that wouldn't be so bad, so he shrugged.

"Is Zabini joining us?"

"He doesn't want to go," Draco said, frowning. "He's already made it known that he's going home over Christmas, to avoid being…propositioned by some of the more aggressive girls."

Catherine giggle darkly, and Draco rolled his eyes, pausing with her outside Professor Snape's classroom. He didn't always walk her to her extra lessons, but lately it had been convenient, and he always felt more comfortable accompanying her than not, particularly now she was garnering so much male attention.

"Well, let me know what color and style your robes are, will you?" she asked sweetly. "Want to make sure we all match as well as possible."

He said he certainly would, but she was already rushing into the dungeon, barely listening.

/-/

Hermione knew Ron felt a bit betrayed Harry had agreed – sort of – to go to the Yule Ball with Catherine Black. On the other hand, Hermione suspected it was better for Ron to not have to learn how Catherine would almost certainly have turned him down. Better not to be talked about as one of that poor list of boys.

"You should ask Luna," Neville had said encouragingly. "You'd have a great time, and that way we'll all be together, our whole group and their whole group."

"Luna's great," Harry had agreed. "And she won't be high maintenance, Ron. She probably won't even comment on your dress robes."

Hermione had pinched the bridge of her nose and cursed Harry's lack of tact silently as Ron groaned, despairing.

"It's not fair," Ron had said bitterly. "You knew I liked her and you're going with her anyway."

"It's not like I asked her," Harry had protested. "D'you honestly think I would ever be stupid enough to ask Kitty on a date, even as a friend? Uncle Sirius would kill me, and he knows where I sleep all year long, not just during school."

Hermione wondered if anyone would ever be good enough to date Catherine Black, but she said nothing. Jason Black, softly, set down his book and said, "If it makes you feel any better, Ron, she wouldn't have gone with you."

"What?" Ron asked, horrified.

"You're too tall," Jason said, shrugging. "It would make it difficult for dancing, and she hates heels."

/-/

Sirius poured himself a very large firewhiskey, and ignored the smirk Remus was giving him across the room.

"You wrote to James in protest, did you?" Remus asked as Sirius downed the drink in one before pouring another.

Sirius grunted. He so badly wanted a cigarette, but he knew if he lit one up every time someone asked out his daughter, he'd smoke his lungs black before she graduated. At least, that was what Severus told him with such a satisfied look after the rumors she'd turned down Diggory began.

"What's so wrong with her having a bit of fun, Padfoot?" Remus asked gently, standing, setting down his own glass. He crossed the room and Sirius winced, downing the second glass. He went to pour a third, but Remus stopped him and said, "You're going to be there. And it's Harry, Padfoot. It's not like it's someone slimy and awful. It's not someone who's after her gold or looking to get her into bed. It's not someone stupid enough to think he can take advantage of her because she's young. Harry's still a kid himself, you know. They're not like we were at their age. They're still children."

"Children who nearly get eaten by Acromantulas," Sirius said bitterly. "Children who sneak out of their beds in the middle of the night and travel across two counties to gossip so they don't break the rule about using their mirrors after curfew. Children who start prank wars that grow so big, students nearly die. Remus, d'you think we did our children any favors by sheltering them from the truth of our own youth?"

He knew Remus didn't really have any answers, but he was pleased when his friend let go of the firewhiskey bottle and let him pour a third glass.

/-/

Blaise took the train home on a fairly empty train. It was strange, because the train home at Christmas was usually very full, especially compared with Easter Holiday.

He pulled his jumper closer, looking out the window at the snow and wondering if Draco would have a good time with his lions. Blaise supposed he probably would. Draco did have a strange attachment to those Gryffindors. A favor to Catherine Black was one thing, but being stuck with all those Gryffindors and their pet Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws was a bit much in Blaise's eyes.

Still, he supposed, infinitely better than an evening with Pansy Parkinson.

Blaise could have gone with Daphne, he thought, eyes closed, but then he would have been stuck with Pansy and whatever poor soul was stuck with her. Blaise also thought he might have been able to ask Astoria Greengrass without too much trouble, but a second year was perhaps a bit too young. There weren't any attractive Ravenclaws in their year apart from the Patil girl, and she would certainly come as a package deal with her twin and whatever other Gryffindor she was dragging along, and perhaps Lavender Brown and her date to boot.

No, better to have a quiet Christmas with his mother and her guests. At least they wouldn't expect him to speak.

/-/

Ron wasn't exactly not speaking to Harry, but Dean noticed he wasn't exactly speaking to him, either.

"If it makes you feel any better," Dean said softly to Harry, "you're going with the prettiest girl in the school."

Harry blinked at Dean like he wasn't sure who Dean was talking about.

"What, Kitty?" he said, flabbergasted. "Hardly."

"She's awfully fit, mate," Neville said, smiling. "If she weren't so terrifying, I'd maybe even try to ask her out."

"I'd ask her a million times if I didn't want to be in Professor Black's good books," Seamus said earnestly.

"Nah," Harry said dismissively. "She's so…pale."

"Skin like ivory," Dean said cheerfully, realizing Harry'd never actually thought about Catherine's looks, not in any real way. How had he not noticed?

Harry shifted uncomfortably and said, "But…she's so thin."

"Delicate," Seamus said, grinning. "Like a flower made of steel."

Now Harry actually looked mildly distressed as he turned around to Neville and said, "But…but she's Kitty! She's…she's…."

"You see her like a sister, Harry," Neville said with a smile. "And in a way, she sort of is. But she's not. She's barely related to you at all, and in a way, you're the luckiest bloke in school. You'd get closer than anyone else because you don't see her looks."

Harry was nearly purple when he squawked, "But she's _Kitty_!"

/-/

"I suppose there are probably worse things," Dorcas said, frowning as she looked at the dress robes Gideon bought for Rhea. "I mean, at least we know Draco will be a gentleman."

Fabian sniffed.

Dorcas tried not to roll her eyes. After all, it wasn't as though Draco and Rhea were getting married. They were just going to a dance together, just avoiding people they didn't like together. They'd all go in a large group, and that would be that. She exhaled forcefully and said, "Look, love, if you disapprove of the robes, say so, but everything else you might disapprove of is out of our hands. She'll be in full sight of Sirius and Remus all night. If you've got concerns, address them to our friends."

Suddenly, Fabian's expression changed and he said, "Poor Sirius."

"What about him is supposed to be poor?" she teased.

"He's got to watch his daughter go to a Ball with a bloke, and dance and laugh and have fun with some bloke."

Dorcas bit her tongue. Harry Potter was hardly just "some bloke," and she supposed quite a few boys of worse and lesser description had expressed interest in Catherine. Still, anything that kept him from brooding on Rhea.

/-/

The whole of Hufflepuff House paid attention to when Catherine Black's package arrived. Hannah knew, as the rest of the House knew, that it would be her dress robes, and Hannah wondered what sort of marvelous outfit would be chosen by one of the richest girls in England. No doubt, whatever it was would look perfect.

"Are they yellow?"

"No," Catherine sniffed at Ryana Cotton, who was the only person allowed close to the box. "That would be positively garish."

Hannah felt her cheeks flush as she thought of her own yellow dress robes.

"Black, then?"

"Darling, half the boys will be in black. Be sensible. Anyway, what makes you think I'd wear House colors for the Yule Ball? Practically everyone will do that. Hermione Granger, she was clever, you know. Hers are purple."

"Are yours purple?" Ryana asked excitedly.

Hannah bit her lip to keep from laughing as Catherine sighed dramatically.

"Honestly, Ryana," Catherine said. "What am I going to do with you?"

Hannah went to her dormitory, where Susan was brushing out her hair, and she said softly, "Do you ever think maybe Catherine Black is a bit of a spoiled brat?"

With a small, amused smile, Susan said, "Well, she can be a bit…precious sometimes. But I think, given everything her family went through during the war, I would be more surprised if her father hadn't spoiled her just a little bit rotten. And she seems good at the core, right?"

Hannah hummed as a response, but some days she really couldn't understand how Professor Black could have a daughter like that.

 **A/N: So, Cedric's taking Cho, Ron's asked Luna, and Catherine is strong-arming her way to the Ball with Harry… and Sirius is utterly displeased, almost as much as Harry is distressed.**

 **Review Prompt: Still have some time to guess who Sirius would NOT AT ALL want her to dance with. ;) Also, what color are Kitty's dress robes?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will there be more bonding between father-son? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: To be honest, I don't remember exactly who this question refers to, so let's assume it was Harry and James.**

 **The answer there is yes, there will be. Harry's closer to his mother in some ways, but there are certain things one doesn't discuss with one's mother especially when James starts noticing things and Harry's behavior becomes more…influenced by Catherine.**

 **Soon enough, dears, soon enough. :D**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	64. Yule Ball

**A/N: Your third bonus of the week! Cheers!**

 **-C**

The day of the Yule Ball dawned without too much comment, and Harry found himself anxious to get to the event and get it over with. He'd heard girls took a rather long time to get ready for dances, so they all disappeared up into their dormitories with hours left to go, while the boys didn't go up to change and brush up until about forty minutes before they were due to meet those in other Houses in the Entrance Hall.

"I look awful," Ron said with a pout, looking down at his terrible secondhand robes.

"Luna won't care," Neville said bracingly. "I doubt she'd even mention it."

This wasn't a great comfort to Ron, and Harry knew he'd only decided to go with Luna Lovegood because Catherine asked Harry before Ron could get up the courage to ask.

Harry brushed his hair as well as could be expected, and he stood, anxiously waiting for his roommates to finish so they could meet the girls in the common room. His heart was beating quickly, and he realized he was afraid of having to face Uncle Sirius with Catherine on his arm.

He licked his lips as the others were ready, and they went down to the common room, Harry leading the way.

"Hermione's still finishing up," a familiar voice said. "Let me have a look at your skirt, Ginny."

He realized it was Catherine's voice, and he wondered who let her into Gryffindor Tower, but he stopped wondering as he looked at her in her dress robes.

It was silly, really. Harry had seen Catherine dressed up countless times, all their lives, but there was something about seeing her in scarlet with gold trim that was incredibly attractive. He froze for a moment, taking in the beautiful robes and how they teased just around her knees, flaring out in rolling waves from the pleats at her thin waist. The gold thread that wove through it in embroidered flurries of snowflakes caught the light in small sparkles. The top was not exactly immodest, but it seemed to cling to her arms all the way down to the wrist, and to her torso in a way that made him realize that somehow, without him realizing, she'd developed curves, developed breasts. Even though the neckline only showed her collarbone, it seemed to be sensual, and he wondered if her father had seen and approved these robes, because it seemed impossible.

Her hair was up, which she hardly ever did. A kind of twist, with curls cascading down to brush her smooth neck teasingly, drawing the eye to how perfect and soft her skin looked. If she was wearing make-up, he wasn't much of an expert, it was light work, but her lips seemed darker and fuller, more eye-catching, and her eyes looked larger. Even the curve of her eyebrows seemed to draw his attention more than usual, and he wondered vaguely how long he'd been staring at her as she chatted merrily with Ginny.

"Neville," Catherine said happily, kissing his cheek. "Hermione will be down soon. She's having a bit of a battle with her hair, and at the moment she's just beginning to win. Could you be a dear and meet us downstairs? I wouldn't want the others to have to wait too terribly long."

He assured her he didn't mind, and Catherine took Harry's arm, leading the way out of the portrait hole and down to the Entrance Hall, where Draco was just greeting Rhea, and Cotton and Luna were patiently waiting for Ron and Seamus.

Harry's eyes went naturally around the room, searching for Cho, and it didn't take long to spot her. She was standing with Cedric Diggory, wearing a beautiful set of silver robes that set off her skin tone, and her hair was up smoothly in a bun.

"Oh, wow," Rhea said softly. "She looks beautiful."

"Yeah," he said softly, without really thinking about it. Catherine's hand tightened on his arm, and Harry realized they weren't talking about Cho.

He turned his attention to the stairwell, and his jaw nearly dropped again.

/-/

Neville felt remarkably proud, walking down the steps with Hermione on his arm. She looked gorgeous, with floaty purple dress robes and hair done in a smooth bun. She looked so beautiful and happy, and the stunned expressions she was greeted with at every turn only seemed to brighten her mood.

"I know, isn't she just?" Catherine said proudly when Rhea announced that Hermione looked beautiful.

"You did this?" Harry asked, slightly dazed. "Is that why you were in Gryffindor Tower?"

"Yeah," Catherine said with a shrug. "Hermione asked if I could help with a few charms and gels to tame her curls. It was a battle, but we won in the end. Lovely, dear, truly lovely."

Hermione murmured her thanks, and Neville couldn't help but think that he was walking into the Yule Ball with the most beautiful girl in the school on his arm. And he also couldn't help but notice that Harry's eyes had already trailed over to where Cho Chang was standing with Cedric Diggory and his friends. Neville wondered if Harry saw that Diggory's eyes kept tracing over to where Catherine stood on Harry's arm, proud as a peacock.

"You look glorious, Kitty," Draco said softly. "No offense to my date, but easily you're the most beautiful girl at the ball."

Rhea shrugged and said, "I wouldn't argue with that."

Catherine flushed slightly with pride, and thanked them, leading the way into the Great Hall.

/-/

With a slight flash of irritation, Catherine led Harry into the Great Hall, steering him toward a table, and she sat him down, trying to ignore that he kept looking at Cho Chang.

"Tell me I'm the most beautiful girl at the Ball," she said softly.

"What?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Tell me I'm the most beautiful girl," she said calmly, "or I'll scream at the top of my lungs."

He spared a nervous glance up at her father before he said, "Kitty, don't be absurd."

She took a deep breath, ready to shriek to her fullest, and he quickly put a hand over her mouth and said, "Merlin's sake, Kitty. You're the most beautiful girl in the world. Now will you behave?"

She smirked at him, smoothing her skirt slightly over her thighs before glancing up at the head table.

/-/

Luna could tell Ron was uncomfortable with his rather unusual dress robes by the way he kept picking at them and adjusting them during dinner. She decided he probably hadn't selected them himself, so she wouldn't comment on them, in case they were a sore point. Catherine had suggested she avoid mentioning possible sore points.

"Your eyes look very bright today, Ronald," she said, since she had yet to compliment him that evening, and everyone else seemed to compliment their dates.

"Erm, thanks," he said, frowning at her slightly.

/-/

When the music started, the champions and their dates opened the dancing. Rhea glanced at Draco, who nodded to her slightly to let her know he understood her apprehension. He wouldn't drag her out onto the dance floor until she felt there were enough people.

Harry leaned in slightly to Catherine and whispered, "Kitty, please tell me you're not making me dance all night long."

"Merlin, no," she said with a laugh. "I expect you to dance the first, with a smile, and then I'm going to get Daddy or Uncle Remus to dance the rest. I thoroughly expect you to sit alone or with your silly friends at a table and leave me to enjoy myself."

Rhea saw Harry's lips twitch, and she couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed, but he gave Catherine a sharp nod of acknowledgement.

Sometimes, Rhea couldn't understand how Catherine could be so insensitive.

Still, Harry held his arm out to signal that he was ready to dance long before Draco decided there were enough people, and Rhea finally went out after Catherine and Harry had been dancing for several minutes, ostensibly enjoying themselves.

"They do look happy, don't they?" Rhea asked as Draco put his hand to her waist. "I heard a rumor the other day that they were promised to each other."

"The Blacks don't really hold with that sort of thing," Draco said, shrugging. "I suspect the Potters don't as well, what with Madam Potter being Muggle-born. Truth be told, my mother and father haven't promised me to anyone, either. It's not something that's done so often anymore, not since the war. Have your parents?"

"No, the Prewetts haven't in generations," Rhea said, glancing at Catherine. "Why do you suppose Diggory asked Kitty to the Ball?"

"Who knows?" he asked, spinning them around until she was able to see Catherine again. "She's certainly very attractive, if quite young. And her family is hideously important, so if her father approved of the match, it might help him get a job in the Ministry. Not to mention she'll be one of the wealthiest people in Britain when she inherits."

Rhea didn't know if Cedric Diggory was that shallow, but she supposed it was always possible. Many students were interested in furthering themselves, even outside of Slytherin. Still, one could do worse than marry a Hufflepuff, whatever his interests and intentions.

"I'm a bit dizzy," she said softly. "Could we sit down?"

"Certainly," he said. "Would you like me to get you a drink?"

Rhea said she certainly would, and when the song ended she was sitting on the side, where Harry joined her shortly after.

"Where's Kitty?" she asked over the music.

"She's getting a drink and then searching down her father," Harry cried over the noise. "She's got way too much energy."

"Are you really going to sit here the whole time?"

"I should hope not, Potter," Draco said, passing a drink to Rhea before sipping his own and sitting down. "There's plenty to do apart from the Ball itself. Apparently there's fairies in the gardens. The rosebushes are supposed to be quite something."

He winked, which told Rhea there was something he knew that she didn't understand, but she was too nervous to ask questions.

/-/

Sirius was watching student dance, knowing his daughter would find him when she was ready to dance with him. He was just wondering why they'd never done anything like this during his time at Hogwarts when Severus trod pointedly on his foot.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"Look," Remus said softly, nodding over to the drinks.

Sirius turned, and he felt his vision go with anger for a brief moment, looking at the scene before him. For the first time in years, Catherine looked unsure of herself, more like her mother, as the detestable Igor Karkaroff bowed slightly, holding his hand out to her, as though asking her to dance. Slowly, Catherine took his hand, but she seemed terribly uncomfortable.

"I'm going to rip him limb from limb," Sirius said darkly.

"Stay here," Severus said softly. "Allow me to deal with this."

The fact that Severus was willing to act on Catherine's behalf was amusing and a relief, and Sirius didn't argue as the other man crossed to the drinks, where Karkaroff was about to dance with Catherine.

Surely that was against the rules, Sirius thought. Surely there would be no acceptable thing about professors who didn't already know students well dancing with students.

Particularly Death Eaters dancing with Sirius's little girl.

/-/

Catherine looked anxious as Severus approached, and he tapped Karkaroff's shoulder forcefully.

"Severus," Karkaroff said, raising a thick, fluffy eyebrow with mild amusement.

"I'm cutting in, Karkaroff," Severus said smoothly. "Miss Black, if you would allow me to bring you to your father."

"Of course, Professor," she said, looking relieved, extracting herself from Karkaroff's hold as quickly as possible and taking Severus's outstretched hand. Hesitating, she nodded acknowledgement to Karkaroff in a show of politeness he didn't deserve before being led away to her waiting and slightly angry father.

/-/

When Catherine approached, Remus watched her face brighten instantly as her father smiled at her. Remus found it so endearing to look at her, to remember how sweet it was each time Cara smiled when she was young and still didn't know who she was. Catherine threw her arms around her father's neck and allowed him to pull her into the air, spinning her quickly around once.

"You are positively the most beautiful girl in the world," Sirius said, his eyes shining as he looked down at his daughter.

Touching was the best word to describe how it was to see Sirius be so gentle with Catherine, to treat her like a princess.

"Harry said the same thing," Catherine said laughingly. "D'you like my robes, Daddy?"

"They're gorgeous, darling. You really look perfect in scarlet and gold. Should have been a Gryffindor."

/-/

Harry walked out into the cool night air, feeling the edges of his nostrils sting as he saw Professor Snape patrolling the rosebushes. He was walking with Karkaroff, who was speaking in a low, eager voice. Harry walked around to the side, thinking of the teasing, silly things Catherine said while they were dancing. She seemed to find it endlessly amusing that he kept looking at Cho.

"Has she seen it, Severus?" he heard Karkaroff say to Snape. "His or yours. Is it black like it once was?"

Snape said nothing in response, and Harry moved closer.

"I would readily show her mine."

Something about the delight in the Durmstrang Headmaster's voice caused Harry's spine to shiver.

"That is not your place," Snape said coolly. "What Miss Black knows about the war will come from her History of Magic professor. That is not you, and that is not me."

"I've heard you've taken her under your wing," Karkaroff said softly. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of it, Severus. She'll be as beautiful as her mother, and as powerful as her father—"

"She is a child," Snape said softly as Harry held his breath, "and you are disgusting. If you so much as breathe the same air as her again, Karkaroff, I assure you that you will find she is far from unprotected. You are not stupid. You can guess what happened to Barty when he went looking where he didn't belong."

Unable to hold his breath any longer, Harry coughed slightly, feeling his face flush as Snape and Karkaroff both looked at him.

"What are you doing out here, Potter?" Snape said, with surprising lack of emotion.

"Walking," Harry said, looking at Karkaroff. "I wanted to see the gardens."

Snape's nostrils flared for a moment before he said, "Very well. You have seen them, I trust?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said slowly, walking back into the castle. He glanced back to see Snape still watching him. The Potions Master gave him a small nod and Harry nodded back.

He hadn't been meant to hear any of that, but he knew what Professor Snape wanted from him: not to let Catherine out of his sight while the visitors were around.

/-/

Ron watched Catherine spin happily, round and round, with her father, laughing. He took a deep breath and let it out, wondering if he'd been stupid to think she'd look at him. She was clearly the most beautiful girl in the room, with many eyes trailing over toward her as she laughed and danced and twirled. She was beautiful, powerful, rich, classy….

No, she was too good for Ron.

George slipped into the seat next to Ron and wiggled his eyebrows slightly.

"Unfair, isn't it?" George said.

"What is?" Ron asked, frowning.

"That girl," George said softly. "I can make her laugh, I can dazzle her with tricks and wit and charm. But she turned me down three times for this shindig."

Ron looked at his brother, startled. He hadn't realized George had asked. He'd assumed George hadn't gotten around to it when Catherine asked Harry, because the idea that she would turn down George had never occurred to Ron. If she wouldn't look twice at George, she certainly wouldn't look twice at Ron.

"And then Harry doesn't even ask and she came with him," George said, glancing over at Harry, who had just reentered the Hall, looking slightly pale as he glanced around the room. "He doesn't look at her like everyone else does. He doesn't appreciate her. I dunno, maybe that's what she wants. Someone who isn't really looking at her. Someone who's…looking at something else?"

Ron expected Harry to be looking at Cho Chang, but he realized he was watching Catherine dance with her father. Harry relaxed slightly, as though he'd been concerned that something had happened while he'd been out in the gardens.

"She's thirteen," Ron said softly. "She probably doesn't know what she wants yet. Most of us probably don't."

"Wise, little brother. Wise."

Then George winked and sauntered off to where Fred and Angelina were dancing with crazy arms flailing.

Harry sat down, followed by Luna.

"Alright, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, but he barely was listening. "What time is it?"

"Nearly midnight," Luna said. She took a sip of her punch. "I expect it'll be ending soon. Professor McGonagall won't let it go on all night."

Harry nodded sharply and stuck his hand in his pocket like he was checking to be sure something was there. He nodded again, this time fluidly, more to himself than to anything that had been said.

"I think I'm going to bed," he said softly. "Make my apologies to Kitty, Luna, will you? Tell her I'll call her tonight. Where's Uncle Remus patrolling?"

"Entrance Hall, I think," Ron said, curious. "Last time I saw, anyway."

Harry muttered something about catching him on the way out before sparing one last glance toward Catherine and going out of the Hall again without a word.

"Well, that was very unusual, wasn't it?" Luna said brightly. She'd finished her punch and set it down on the table behind her.

Determined to have at least some fun at this party, Ron stood up, held out his hand and said, "What about it, eh? Last one?"

Luna was mildly surprised, but she happily accepted.

 **A/N: So, nobody guessed the unwanted dancing partner, Harry has serious breathing problems all in one night, and Ron begins to let go.**

 **Review Prompt: How far do you think Karkaroff would go to unsettle Catherine, or hurt Sirius, or whatever you think he might be after?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will there be more Sirius/Jason interaction? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Right, let's get it right this time, eh? Haha, sorry for messing up the question the time before. I'm tossing this in as a kind of bonus question on this one, because I did it wrong before.**

 **There will be MORE, but not loads more…. Jason's more of a solitary creature, and he doesn't really bond to the level I think you mean until Part 3. Sirius and Severus and Jason are going to have a major sit-down in Part 3, because it will be absolutely bloody necessary, and then Jason and Sirius are going to have that big, adult chat I'm sure we're all hoping they someday have.**

 **Q: Will there be more scenes with Jason and Kitty or Jason and Harry? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: This I definitely can promise. Not quite as much Jason and Harry, but Jason will begin to act as Kitty's conscience, in a sense, in the next few years, as things start to get a bit darker. He's the steady watcher who's willing to tell her when she's gone too far – when he's aware of what she's done, which he is to some extent all the way through.**

 **Part 3, he's going to have some interaction with Kitty, but he's going to take more responsibility with Harry and Sirius, so there will be less interaction with his sisters, then. That's about all I can say about that without big spoilers. Kitty's going to be…pretty isolated in Part 3, emotionally and physically.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	65. The Root of the Problem

**A/N: Here's bonus number four this week! Y'all are on a roll! Also, only six reviews away from another bonus…**

 **-C**

Catherine couldn't explain why Harry was suddenly being so clingy, checking in with her every time they were apart for more than an hour, but he was far from the only one doing it. Her father, Uncle Remus, and even Professor Snape were also watching her and crossing her path awkwardly at times that didn't make sense. She realized she was being wrapped in cotton for some reason, but she couldn't think what it was.

And anyway, she had bigger things on her mind.

Rita Skeeter, the most obnoxious and terrible writer ever known, had written an expose about Hagrid, and the fact he was half-giant. Apparently by his own admission, although Skeeter wasn't supposed to be on the grounds.

"Despicable," Catherine said coolly, tossing down the paper like it was something burning her fingers. "As if anyone would care."

"Some people still might," Ginny said reasonably. "There are still some old-fashioned people who would think Hagrid would be dangerous to their children. Plus, the way he's into all the dangerous stuff. I mean, let's just think about the Skrewts. Dangerous, and probably grossly illegal."

Yes, that was a worry, Catherine thought, glancing up to the Head Table, where Hagrid was not to be found. Madam Maxime looked a bit pale, carrying on a conversation with Dumbledore. When Catherine saw Karkaroff smirk at her, she looked down at her toast for a moment.

The man made her uneasy, although she couldn't put a finger on why. Something about his eyes.

"He's hiding, isn't he?" Rhea asked softly.

Harry sat down beside Catherine, smiling at her.

"You've seen the paper?" she asked coolly.

"Erm, yeah."

"Then why in the name of Merlin are you smiling at me?" she asked, smacking him slightly. "You should be doing something about it!"

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, rubbing his arm where she'd smacked him. "Look, Draco's dealing with the Slytherins, and everybody else is very upset about the whole thing. Hermione's arranging everything. Nothing for me to do, really. Are you busy later?"

"No, I've got homework, but that's nothing," she said, shrugging.

"Snape wanted me to tell you he wants to add a lesson today, if you weren't too busy. After dinner."

"Right."

"And I wanted to ask if you wanted to fly later."

Catherine considered the offer. She'd not been up on a broom in ages, and it was always tempting when he offered to fly her on his Firebolt. She did have to try to get something done, though.

"Maybe for a little while," she said, frowning slightly, "if you promise me you'll help with my Transfiguration essay."

"My wish is your command," he said, winking and hurrying away again.

"He's been keeping rather close," Ginny said with a frown. "What's up?"

"Dunno," Catherine said, not mentioning the adults keeping close as well. She knew perfectly well there was no good reason for an extra lesson in Potions this week, but she never said no to extra time brewing. "Ginny, darling, pass the sausages."

/-/

Rhea did as Hermione asked and wrote a letter to the Barnabas Cuffe, like dozens of other students were doing, to protest the tone and tenor of the Skeeter article. After all, the letters would argue, it hardly mattered that Hagrid wasn't wholly human by blood. In a world that was becoming enlightened bit by bit, Rhea knew her name and her sister's name would carry almost as much weight as the names of Diggory Catherine, and Harry, who were also writing letters under Hermione's direction. Perhaps the biggest blow to Skeeter would be the letter Draco was writing, protesting the insinuations that Hagrid was dangerous.

He was really the only student who could conceivably make that argument, as other students would be questioned on the things that could absolutely be construed as dangerous, and they would have no realistic answer.

"Will you read this over?" she asked Luna after signing her name. "Only I think perhaps it's not strongly-worded enough. Hermione specifically asked for a strongly worded letter."

Luna said she would, as soon as she'd had a moment to finish her entry into her dream diary for Divination. Rhea really didn't understand the point of Divination, but she supposed there was something to be said for Luna having fun. And she did seem to have fun in Divination.

"I think Karkaroff is stalking Kitty," Luna said cheerfully. "And Harry and her dad and uncles and whatever, they're all acting like they're closing ranks around her. Even Draco's taken notice."

Rhea nodded. She had wondered about the behavior of some of the adults, but she hadn't thought it her place to point it out.

"Something to keep an eye on," she said softly. "I'll tell Ginny."

/-/

Jason sat in his father's office, scribbling the letter Hermione had asked him to write on Hagrid's behalf.

"Have you done all of your homework?" his father asked, clearly very tired.

"Yeah," Jason said, looking up. "Dad, how was the Yule Ball?"

"It was fine," his father said, smiling slightly. "Your sister has entirely too much energy. It's amazing to me that she doesn't just keel over from exhaustion daily. She wants us to do balls and parties."

"Why don't we?"

His father frowned slightly and finally said, "Your mother doesn't really like being surrounded by too many strangers. There are things we have to do for society, but many of those things don't support bringing children along. And we do have parties, just…not like this. Maybe someday, but…it would have to be up to your mother."

Jason thought there was a story he didn't know, but he didn't ask, turning his attention back to the letter.

"How does one spell ignoramus?"

His father smiled and scratched the side of his cheek.

"Ask your uncle Remus. With an o-u-s? Or maybe just a u-s. He'd know. I was always rubbish at spelling. Where's Kitty?"

"Harry's taking her flying before her extra Potions lesson," Jason said, glancing up at his father's face and seeing it tense ever-so-slightly.

/-/

Natalie saw Cedric Diggory anxiously writing in a little notebook as he flipped through several books he'd gotten off the shelves in the library. She was supposed to get some books and meet Cora and Jason, but she was frowning at the sight before her feeling uneasy. It had something to do with the Second Task, she was sure, and after the first one she couldn't imagine what sort of pressure the champions were under to prepare for the second one.

She gathered up the books they would need and went to the desk to check them out.

"Miss McDonald," Madam Pince said, looking down her nose at the young girl. "Quite a lot of books."

"Yes, ma'am," Natalie said softly, forcing a smile. "It was my turn to get the books for homework, you see. Next week, it'll be Cora Prewett's turn."

"Indeed."

It worked for them, although it meant that each of them had to carry a massive stack of books to and from the library each week. And Cora always came back with a third again as many books as she had gone in for, considering how much she loved books.

Natalie thanked Madam Pince, as she was always careful to do, and she lugged the books back to the Gryffindor common room, where Cora was waiting by the window.

"Jason will be back soon," Cora said, moving her essay to make room for the books. "He had some time with his father."

"Of course," Natalie said. "I think I got everything. Should we start without him?"

Cora nodded, and Natalie pulled out her partially-written essays.

/-/

Draco finished penning his letter and walked it to the rendezvous point, the Charms corridor, where Hermione Granger was collecting all of the letters to be mailed en masse by Dumbledore.

"You know, Granger," he said, "I thought you were supposed to be clever."

Her face flushed slightly and she said, "What, Draco?"

"Don't you think Cuffe will be more irritated by a parade of owls than one owl delivering dozens of letters?"

He was mildly surprised when she smirked at him and said, "I've thought of that. Professor Dumbledore is sending half the letters, those from families that won't make any particular impact, in one bunch, and the rest will be sent by individual owls. Oh, if you see the Lestranges, would you be willing to get them to write letters as well?"

"Adra won't," Draco said, smiling a little in spite of himself. "I suppose I could ask Brontes. Blaise's letter will be done soon, and Astoria Greengrass approached me and said she'd like to write one as well, so you'll be getting hers at about the same time."

"Oh, excellent!" Hermione said happily. "I do believe we'll get a retraction and apology at the very least. I'd like her head on a platter, but I suppose that's too much to ask for."

"Someday, Granger," he said, winking. "Someday."

/-/

Aeson whined and whined, but his father put his foot down.

"I have it on good authority that you'd find it exceedingly dull, anyway," his father said firmly. "There won't be much to see. How about we plan an outing with Caroline and Aunt Cara? Something you've not done before."

This promise made Aeson excited, and he tried to think of things they hadn't seen or done. He perked up and said, "Father, can we go to the zoo?"

"Zoo?" his mother said, horrified. "What hideous notions."

"Caro mentioned it once," Aeson said, almost defensively. "It sounded like fun. Either that, or she says films are excellent."

His father hesitated. He knew his father wasn't particularly interested in or comfortable with Muggle things, but he had promised.

"I'll speak to Aunt Cara," his father said slowly. "We'll sort something out. Will that suffice?"

Aeson nodded, thanked his father, and hurried out to the back garden, rubbing his arms, wishing he were at Hogwarts. Next year, though, he reminded himself. Next year he and Caroline would be at Hogwarts, and they would have a spectacular time, Tournament or no Tournament.

And maybe they'd get to go to the zoo, which was supposed to be very fun. Caroline had a way of making everything sound fun, though. She had so much enthusiasm, so much verve and zest. He wanted to write her a letter, but she probably was busy pretending she was bored. He didn't want to spoil the effect.

/-/

Hermione gathered up the letters she'd collected and categorized, and she went to the staff room, where Professor Dumbledore said she could find him. He was sitting by the fireplace with a cup of tea, and he gestured for her to come in when she opened the door slightly.

"Sir," she said, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I have them."

"Excellent," he said, smiling at her, gesturing for her to sit down. She set down to two stacks of letters. "What families are in the second stack?"

"Both Blacks, Harry, the Prewetts, Draco, Blaise Zabini, the younger Greengrass girl, and um, Neville."

"Very good," he said. "Cedric Diggory as well?"

"I don't have his," she said apologetically. "He said he'd give it to you after his rounds tonight."

"That is perfectly alright," he said, smiling at her. "May I ask something of you, Miss Granger?"

"Of course, sir," she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He glanced at the fireplace and took a long drink of tea.

"Catherine Black. You are an exceptionally organized person, and very detail-oriented. I want you to be certain she is never alone outside of her common room."

"Sir?" she asked, puzzled.

Was this what Harry was up to? Was that why he was finding ways to be around Catherine all of the time?

He set down his cup and pressed his fingers together before he said, "It could amount to nothing, but I cannot help but feel some concern for her well-being given…certain things brought to my attention. Will you keep a watch on her?"

"Of course, sir," she said, fully aware that her heartrate had practically doubled.

/-/

Ourania slipped her feet into her snow boots, eager to go out to the front yard and run around in the snow. Damon was hiding out in his bedroom and being boring, but she supposed it would be down to her to have a bit of fun.

"Darling," her father said, "what are you doing?"

"Erm, going to the snow," she said, almost as a question, knowing the look he was giving her didn't bode well for her snow adventures.

"Why?"

"Because it's not coming in to me?"

He was trying not to smile as he shook his head, pointing for her to go back to her room. She sighed, taking off her boots and giving her father the most innocent look she could, in hope he would have to change his mind. He did not, however, but he did kiss her forehead before he said, "Go on, babe. You need to go to bed. I know the snow is enticing, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do."

"Yes, Daddy," she sighed. She knew if her father had his way, he'd be playing in the snow with her, but her mother was very insistent on bedtimes, and that was that for both of them.

"Sleep well, sunshine. We'll play tomorrow."

/-/

Lily sat down with Severus, whose eyes were dark. James poured some firewhiskey for the three of them before he joined them at the kitchen table. Severus nodded to James when the glass was set down in front of him.

"Sirius knows?" Lily asked softly.

"Sirius knows Karkaroff has an interest in Catherine," Severus said, touching the glass with his fingertips. "I haven't told him the…disgusting details of what was said."

Lily felt a shiver down her spine as she thought of the horrific sexual and possessive sense behind Karkaroff's words.

"How did he get out of Azkaban, anyway?" James asked bitterly.

"Snitching," Lily and Severus said in unison, and Severus sighed, downing his firewhiskey in one before setting it down.

He said, "The horrific thing is, Karkaroff has particular skill with the Imperius Curse. There is only so much I can do to watch her. Eventually, she will be out of sight too long, and I won't be able to stop him from cursing her."

"Someone else will be there," James said firmly.

Lily wanted to believe that, to share James's incurable optimism. But she'd seen so much suffering to the people she cared about, and she knew how relentless evil could be, and it was possible it wouldn't leave Catherine untouched. She couldn't imagine what Sirius would go through if something happened to Catherine, even if it didn't result in losing her altogether.

"Who's watching the entry to her House?" Lily asked softly.

"Remus," he said softly. "If he's not ripping out Karkaroff's throat. He wanted to. Come to that, I want to. Perhaps someday."

Lily shivered again.

/-/

James sighed, watching Lily pace the bedroom. He felt slightly sick, wishing he could calm her down. He felt horrible, as well, that he was unable to help Sirius when his daughter was being targeted almost the way his wife had been targeted. He couldn't imagine how that felt.

"Lily," he said softly.

If she heard him, she ignored him, not stopping in her frantic pacing across the floor. If she could have Disapparated right to Karkaroff in that moment and modify or murder him, James didn't doubt she would. Perhaps that should have bothered him, but after everything they'd seen and done during the war, very little bothered him anymore.

"Lily," he said again.

She paused and looked up at him, frowning slightly as she stopped in her tracks, her mouth working as she tried to think about her words.

"If we had a daughter," she said softly, "that could be her, do you know?"

"Yes," James said, understanding perfectly. "I know."

"And if we don't do something," she said, near tears, "I can imagine…. Sirius lives for that girl, James. Almost as much as he lived for Cate. And we can't let someone hurt her, ever. I don't think he's strong enough to go through all this again."

"He's stronger than he thinks," James said, wishing there was more assurance to give her.

/-/

Sirius shivered, lighting a cigarette and ignoring the way his fingers were trembling as he thought about the way Karkaroff had looked at Catherine.

He'd never liked Igor, never approved of him getting out of prison, but now he wanted him dead. He had been told by Severus to let others handle it for the moment, but Sirius was biding his time until he could strangle him. He flexed his left hand and took a long drag from his cigarette, relaxing his hand and then flexing again.

She was everything most days, and on other days she was a large part of everything. If Karkaroff hurt a hair on her head, Sirius would rip him into tiny pieces and make certain no one ever found the pieces. Severus could help, probably. They'd done it before, although serving a different master.

Another shiver.

He swallowed and breathed out the smoke, feeling the smoothness of the flavors across his tongue. Half of him wanted to go out to that stupid boat and light the thing on fire, but the other half knew that was a terrible plan. If his time as a spy had taught him anything, it was that he needed to listen to that second half of himself, the half that thought about what the best plan was, that considered how to do things properly.

Because nothing was allowed to spoil things if he was going to keep her safe. And he would keep her safe if it was the last thing he did.

 **A/N: In the prepping this chapter for your reading pleasure, y'all have earned another bonus and are on the way to a sixth. CRAZY! Let's see if we can break some records this week, shall we?**

 **Review Prompt: If you were one of the adults in Catherine's life, how would you be plotting Karkaroff's demise?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is Karkaroff going to be a part of this darkness that is brewing? (Emmy)**

 **A: Definitely part of, although not the greatest part of. Consider him something of a catalyst for the greater issues they will face. I wish I could say more, but there's really no way of doing it without giving large spoilers.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	66. The Second Task

**A/N: Here's bonus number five! Just a handful away from earning a sixth bonus for the week! Can we make it?**

 **C**

Cara was not especially well-acquainted with much of the Hogwarts staff, but she had always had a special place in her heart for Hagrid. He never treated her any differently for her status or her lack of magical ability, and he often was quite kind and sensitive to her. She'd not forgotten he was the one who found her in the forest and brought her to Albus Dumbledore, who then brought her – in a way – to Sirius.

She'd been particularly upset when Rita Skeeter made such a fuss after Christmas about Hagrid's half-giant heritage, and Sirius told Cara that Hermione Granger was arranging for dozens of students to write letters to the editor on Hagrid's behalf. Cara decided to take a leaf out of the young witch's book, and she contacted Dorcas.

Cara, Lily, James, Dorcas, both Prewett brothers, and the Longbottoms wrote letters, and they also gathered together their contacts to write letters. Dorcas had half her department writing in. Lily had gathered half of St. Mungo's to join the cause. Between the children and the adults, the editor of _The Daily Prophet_ was pelted with letters.

It worked better than anyone could have anticipated. Cuffe not only printed an apology and retraction, but he also published a special edition of the paper containing many of the letters he received on Hagrid's behalf. Cara smiled, seeing her letter beside the letters of her husband and her children. Jason's was particularly well-written, and when it said at the bottom he was a first year student, she wondered how many readers would be surprised with how young he was.

With some satisfaction, she took the special edition and placed it on a shelf in her bedroom, trying to think of the best place to keep it to preserve it forever. Dorcas was already thinking of ways to end Skeeter's career for good, but Cara decided she would leave that to the professionals. She had enough secrets and weaknesses that she knew better than to get into a mud-slinging fight, which was exactly what taking on Skeeter would become.

Cara then went down to the kitchen, concern filling her with each step as she thought of how the tone of Sirius's letters had changed since Christmas. Something, although she wasn't sure what, was bothering him and bothering him very deeply. She wanted to visit, but she couldn't justify visiting and leaving Caroline behind. She'd tried talking to James about it, but he'd been almost obviously obtuse about the whole thing, avoiding discussing it.

She hated that feeling, that sense everyone knew something important except for her. She hadn't had it often since the war, but she still remembered feeling it every day while she'd not had her memories. She remembered the anxiety of being locked in a bedroom while Order meetings went on in the kitchen, wondering what they knew and what she didn't.

Catherine's letters had changed as well, but Cara supposed that was part of growing up. She'd had a ball now, and said how much she wanted to have more such events.

Cara was terrified of hosting large events like balls and fetes. Every time she thought of one, her hands would start to sweat. And it wasn't just her childhood of having to watch her every step at such events for fear of angering her biological father, of getting in the way of the wrong people. She also recalled far too easily the war, and how the purebloods would watch her for signs of weakness, the way Barty Crouch, Jr. would approach her when he thought Sirius wasn't paying close enough attention.

And nothing, no matter how hard she tried, would erase the memory of that night, seeing Sirius writhing in pain, feeling that rush of panic and desperation as she tried to think of what to do, of anything to do. She could still feel the sticky warmth of the Dark Lord's blood on her hands as she thrust the sword over and over and over again. She lost consciousness in that awful moment, and she woke up again in a different world, with a fresh reality, but this time with all the memories she would rather forget.

The last thing she wanted was to have a ball.

/-/

Remus sat with Dumbledore and passed his notes across the table. They'd been thinking of various creatures and enchantments that would be suitable for use in the Third Task, which wouldn't be enacted for several months. Albus looked over the list and nodded, make a few small notes on the side.

"I like the sphinx," Albus said cheerfully. "I think that fits into our plans rather well. No, this is excellent, Remus. Really quite excellent."

"Sir," Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck. "What are we going to do about Kitty?"

Albus's bright and cheerful blue eyes dulled slightly and he said, "Yes. Miss Black. She is being watched. Without further evidence of danger to her person, I am afraid there is nothing to be done apart from keeping a very close eye on her. Tell me, Remus, if you were going to abduct or attack a student at this school, when would you do it?"

Remus hated the question, but he closed his eyes and tried to give it proper consideration. If his answer could help protect Catherine, he wanted to give the best possible answer.

"I suppose," he said slowly, "I would attack during one of the Tournament events. Probably…probably the third one. Severus and Sirius and I will be patrolling the outside of the maze, which would leave Catherine in the care of her friends."

"Exactly," Albus said darkly. "My thoughts exactly."

Remus wished Albus had given a more satisfactory answer, but he supposed the man would keep a close eye on the situation.

/-/

Severus gathered the unconscious students – one from each school, one for each champion – to be delivered to the merpeople's city at the bottom of the lake.

Relief. That was how he felt that Catherine had not been the thing Cedric Diggory would miss the most. She had enough stress in her life at the moment.

/-/

Kevin Whitby watched from his window as workers, presumably from the Ministry for the purposes of the Tournament, began digging up the Quidditch pitch.

He knew the Second Task was supposed to be over at the lake, so this must be something to do with the Third Task, which was months away. He wondered what would take so long to put together that they would be starting preparations now.

Laura looked over Kevin's shoulder out the window, and she frowned.

"The Quidditch players won't be pleased, I imagine," she said softly. "They made such a fuss when it was announced there wouldn't be a Quidditch Cup this year. I hope I'm not around any of them when they find out about the pitch."

"It'll be reseeded for the next season," Kevin said, leaning back. "Do you think they're going to build something?"

"I suppose they rather have to, don't they?" Laura said, shrugging. "Dumbledore wouldn't let them tear it up for no reason."

/-/

Cora rubbed her hands together as her friend group settled in the stands constructed along the lake for watching the Second Task. Jason was sitting with his father, but Natalie, Dennis, and Jimmy were with Cora, toward the middle of the stands. She could see the Blacks from where she was sitting, and she frowned slightly at the way Professor Black was practically clinging to Catherine, like he didn't want to let go of her.

"I wonder what they're going to have to do," Dennis said eagerly. "Maybe they have to wrestle the Giant Squid!"

"Unlikely," Natalie said softly. "There's only one Giant Squid, and there's three of them. Remember, they got in three dragons."

"Maybe they've shipped in three squid," Dennis argued.

Natalie pursed her lips, and Cora smiled a little to herself, knowing what Natalie must be thinking. As much as they enjoyed being around Dennis, she could almost always feel the frustration about how often he would speak before he thought.

"Oh, here we go," Jimmy said, jabbing his elbow lightly into Dennis's ribs.

Their eyes all turned to the platforms built out over the water, and Cora licked her lips as Professor Dumbledore said something to each of the Champions, who all nodded. Then he pressed his wand to his neck, and a moment later, his voice boomed over the audience.

"Good morning!" he said cheerfully. "Welcome to the Second Task. Last night, while we were sleeping, something of value was taken from each of our three Champions. They will have one hour from the starting shot to retrieve their valuable thing from the lake and return."

"Is that all?" Dennis said, disappointed. "We won't get to see anything at all? Why build stands if we're just going to look at the lake for an hour?"

Cora thought there would likely be some dramatic element beyond that, and she just shrugged as the starting shot sounded and the clock began to count down the hour. Krum did a partial transfiguration on himself, giving himself a shark's head before diving in.

"What have the other two done?" Jimmy asked.

"Looks like a Bubble-Head Charm," Natalie said, clapping with the rest of the crowd. "I've read about it. It takes a lot to keep it going for sustained periods of time, though. But they've probably practiced."

"What lives in the lake?" Cora asked. "You know, apart from the Squid."

They all looked around at each other and shrugged. Given what they knew about the Forbidden Forest – from rumor and confirmed stories from older students – there had to be things in the depths of the Black Lake less benevolent than the Giant Squid.

After about ten minutes of waiting, something popped up to the surface and made shrieking sounds to Professor Dumbledore, who nodded, made a sort of shrieking sound back, and got a response.

"What was that?" Dennis asked, puzzled and horrified.

"Mermish!" a third year from nearby cried, and Cora and Natalie exchanged delighted and surprised looks.

Apparently, there were merpeople in the Black Lake, and apparently Professor Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Cora sat up a bit straighter as Dumbledore pressed his wand to his neck.

"The Champions are approaching a nest of grindylows. Another update will be coming soon."

/-/

Brontes frowned as the girl from Beauxbatons resurfaced after a poor run with the grindylows. She was unable to maintain her Bubble-Head Charm and pass the grindylows safely, and so she had turned back, distraught, especially when it was revealed to her what was waiting at the bottom of the lake for her to have found.

Apparently, people had been taken, held in a kind of suspension, and tied to Mermish structures at the bottom of the lake. Cho Chang had been taken for Cedric Diggory, a student from Durmstrang for Viktor Krum, and the sister of Fleur Delacour.

Brontes wasn't sure he'd be terribly upset if he were in her place, but then, he wasn't especially close to his sister. He thought Catherine might have been upset if she'd been in that position, knowing Caroline was at the bottom of the Black Lake.

"The other two got past?" Adrasteia asked nervously.

Brontes exhaled as Astoria Greengrass nodded, saying something he couldn't hear. It hardly mattered. None of them could do anything but wait until they had another update from Professor Dumbledore.

Fleur Delacour was being wrapped in a blanket, but she was struggling, inconsolable.

/-/

Dean leaned forward as they waited, thinking they must be seeing someone come back up soon. He hoped it would be Diggory, if for no other reason than that Hogwarts would come out looking good. They'd be close, he assumed, but it was a question of how close, and in what condition. That would be how the points came out.

/-/

Lucius frowned at the letter he had from Igor Karkaroff, a man he had been purposefully not conversing with since the start of the Triwizard Tournament. It hardly mattered what Lucius's wishes were regarding the war and Muggles. The world was a new place, a place where men like Karkaroff and their proclivities were not welcome.

His eyes scanned the page quickly, then again slow to consider the code he was well out of practice with.

Lucius carefully burned the letter and wondered whether he should speak to his wife first, or Severus. As far as Lucius was concerned, there was a line to be drawn with harming purebloods. In these days, even the children of blood traitors were a precious commodity not to be wasted. Perhaps the most valuable of these, Lucius thought, was Catherine Black. Not to mention the material wealth she would inherit, she had her father's temperament and ability, by all accounts, and Lucius had not forgotten how the Dark Lord had valued Sirius Black. To Lucius, Catherine was a hope for building a proper future for his family, and if Karkaroff got in the way, Lucius would kill him himself.

/-/

Dean tapped his foot anxiously, watching as someone broke the surface of the water, and then someone else a moment later, both holding someone spluttering, coming to consciousness. Both Diggory and Krum had surfaced, but the question was – who had surfaced first?

People around Dean were calling out who they thought had come up before the other. Most people seemed to think it was Diggory, but was that because he really had, or because the Hogwarts students wanted their man to win?

Fleur Delacour was still sobbing, inconsolable as she watched the hostages being returned to be treated by Madam Pomfrey, who was no doubt muttering about how dangerous and absurd the whole Tournament was. Harry and Neville were arguing over who had come up first when one of the merpeople surfaced, passing a gasping, small blonde girl to the waiting hands of Albus Dumbledore.

"Delacour's sister?" Seamus asked, squinting for a look at her. "Looks about right. Small, blonde. Oh, yeah, must be. Look at Delacour, she's freaking out."

Dean nodded, acknowledging that he could see the reunion of the two girls. Fleur Delacour was clutching her sister to her, making it impossible for Madam Pomfrey to get a good look at the girl to check on her condition. Dean supposed it wasn't so odd that Dumbledore had arranged for the girl to be returned. It wouldn't make sense to risk the lives of hostages who hadn't even signed up for the competition.

He shivered at the thought of how the girl must have felt, thinking she had failed not only to complete the task, but also to save her sister from drowning in a lake in a foreign country. It wasn't sensible and it wasn't rational, but fear usually wasn't either of those things.

Professor Dumbledore announced that the judges would convene and scores would be delivered momentarily. Dean listened as Ron and Seamus argued over whether Diggory or Krum deserved a higher score. On the one hand, Krum's magic was much more impressive. On the other hand, the Gryffindor boys had reached near-certainty that Diggory surfaced first.

Dean saw Harry glance backward, and Dean followed his gaze up to where the Blacks were sitting together, Catherine saying something happily to Professor Black, who had an arm wrapped around her waist as he listened intently to whatever she was telling him. Jason was squinting, waiting for the results. Dean wanted to ask Harry, whose face relaxed as he turned back around, if everything was alright with Catherine, but he supposed it wasn't his place. There were some people whose business you just didn't stick your nose into.

After some deliberation, Professor Dumbledore, with a very grave expression, pressed his wand to his throat and announced that he had the scores for the three Champions. Fleur had a pittance of points, probably more than she deserved, not managing to retrieve her hostage. Krum's score was much higher, but Diggory's was higher still, as he was said to have arrived at the hostages first, and surfaced first. He actually arrived at the hostages well before Krum, apparently, but he swam much slower.

"Hermione?" Neville asked, anxious.

She held up her hand, frowning at him, pursing her lips.

Dean licked his lips and all the boys leaned in, eagerly, waiting for her to finish her calculations. She'd promised to figure who was in the lead going into the final part of the Tournament, since she was quicker than the rest of them with such things.

"Fleur last, obviously," she said, smiling. "But Diggory's ahead of Krum."

And they all cheered.

/-/

Zacharias Smith caught up with Catherine Black and Ryana Cotton on the way back up to the castle, and he walked close to Catherine, smirking.

"So, you could have been part of the task, and you said no," he said, slightly gloating. He loved opportunities to take her back a peg, but it seemed to not faze her.

She raised an eyebrow at him and said, "If you honestly think I'd rather have been unconscious at the bottom of the Black Lake for the last hour instead of sitting comfortably in the stands with my daddy, you're touched in the head."

He frowned, watching her and Ryana go back up, gossiping happily, and he noticed Professor Snape walking several steps behind her, steadily and unobtrusively. He glanced around, feeling a strange sensation, and he saw the Headmaster of Durmstrang down the path slightly, frowning, his attentions totally caught up on the two girls walking toward the castle.

Zacharias didn't get on with Catherine Black, but something about the man made Zacharias's spine tingle uncomfortably. He frowned, scratching his cheek as he walked back up to the castle, unable to shake the feeling that he had witnessed something important.

 **A/N: So, strategies are being examined, the tournament is going ahead, and Karkaroff looms on, watching and waiting and thinking.**

 **Review Prompt: Let's step into the mind of the villain. Imagine you were Karkaroff. If you were trying to attack Catherine Black, what are the vulnerabilities of her or her protectors you'd look to exploit?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Any chance there'll be a romance for our dear Sevvie? (gr8rockstarrox)**

 **A: Ah, this is a tough-ish one to answer without spoilers. Let me see…. Part Two there will be…a prolonged engagement of sorts. And as far as romance…. Ish? Hinted at in Part Two toward the end, and in Part Three. But I'm not really sure I'd call it romance, and certainly not in the traditional mode.**

 **-C**


	67. The Third and Final Task

**A/N: Great news – when I woke up this morning I found you'd not only earned this SIXTH weekly bonus, but also a record seventh (which I hope to churn out before work), and you're a few reviews from an eighth! Y'all could get MONTHS of regular chapters in one week of bonuses! Keep 'em coming!**

 **-C**

On the way to class the day before the Third Task, Ryana had a strange feeling like she wanted to take a walk to the grounds. She knew she should be going to Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall would be very upset with her if she didn't show up for class, but she just had this undeniable urge to walk to the grounds for a bit.

She walked down toward the lake, and she felt she should go back to the castle quickly, but something compelled her to look out over the Black Lake.

"Excuse me," a low, almost menacing voice said.

Ryana looked up and saw Karkaroff, the Headmaster of Durmstrang. She felt a sense of foreboding, but she'd been caught and she supposed she'd have to answer his questions honestly.

"Yes, sir," she said, feeling anxious.

"Are you not supposed to be in class, Miss…?"

"Cotton," Ryana said, brushing a little bit of hair out of her face. "Erm, yes, I suppose I am. I just…felt the need to come out to the lake. I don't really understand how to…explain it."

"Very well, Miss Cotton," he said, his dark eyes unreadable, almost unnatural. "Tell me, I believe I have seen you around Miss Black?"

"Yes, sir," Ryana said, feeling pleased that someone had recognized her as someone close to Catherine. "She's a friend of mine. We share a dormitory."

"Her father and I were very…close," he said. "Some time ago. Before she was born. I should like her to help me with a little surprise for him. You will help me?"

Ryana hesitated. She really didn't like this man, but she supposed he'd caught her misbehaving, and she'd probably get his support if she got in trouble if she agreed to support him. And hadn't Professor Dumbledore said this whole thing was about international magical cooperation? Surely that meant she should cooperate with this man. After all, he was terribly important, and she was just Ryana Cotton.

And she really did love Professor Black, and Catherine, and if she could help with some sort of surprise for them, well that would help her relationships with both of them, surely.

But she felt so uncomfortable.

"Miss Cotton?" he prompted. "Will you aid me in this endeavor?"

She smiled anxiously and said, "Of course, sir. What is it you would like me to do?"

He walked her back up to the castle, slowly, telling her about what he wanted her to do the following day.

"Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow, sir?" she asked anxiously. "It's just the final day of the Tournament is tomorrow, and I would have thought you would want to see Viktor Krum finish."

"We'll have plenty of time for all that," he said. "Never you mind. Her father will be busy, which makes it the perfect time to get things…organized with Miss Black. Now, you are clear on where she needs to be?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Very good. I will see to it that you are not in trouble for your…wanderings today, Miss Cotton."

"Thank you, sir," she said, but she couldn't shake the feeling something was terribly wrong.

/-/

Catherine walked to dinner with Ryana, puzzled about why she'd missed half of Transfiguration, but apparently it was all taken care of, and Ginny joined them soon enough that Catherine forgot she'd had anything she wanted to ask in the first place.

"I see Hufflepuff gained about fifty points today," Ginny said bitterly. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Catherine giggled and said, "Yeah, those were all me. I think we're going to win this year, especially if Diggory pulls out a win in this silly Tournament. I guess he'll get a Quidditch match's worth of points for a win. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Ginny sniffed her disapproval, but Catherine knew she was just bitter – as Harry was – they couldn't earn as much as her with no Quidditch Cup to play for.

"Are you sitting with your father tomorrow?"

"No," she sighed, rubbing her eyelids, feeling a little bit sad that she couldn't spend ages sitting with her father watching the final task. "No, he's got to help with the event, apparently. I'll probably sit with you lot, if you'll budge up and make space for me."

/-/

Ginny went down to the Third Task, at the Quidditch Pitch, with Colin. She was going to meet the others at the pitch, with Ryana and Catherine apparently running late. Ginny rolled her eyes when she heard this, figuring Catherine was just unable to get her hair the way she wanted it, or something.

Luna and Rhea waved them over, and Ginny and Colin took seats, covering the space for Ryana and Catherine.

"Where are Kitty and Cotton?" Rhea said, still not fully comfortable calling Ryana by her first name. It sounded so much like her own.

"Apparently, they're going to be running a bit late," Ginny said. "Ryana passed a message to Colin through, erm, what's his name?"

"Zacharias," Colin said. "He's a prat."

"Right, Smith," Ginny said with a nod. "They're late, but we're to save their seats because they'll still be here. Didn't say why."

The four of them weren't concerned, and they gossiped, waiting for the start of festivities. All kinds of Ministry people and dignitaries were about, waiting to watch this final bit of the Triwizard Tournament. Luna had a commentary on all the pomp of the occasion, and about ten minutes before the event was supposed to start, Ryana arrived, looking a bit flushed and flustered and confused.

"Where's Kitty?" Luna asked, curious, as they made room for Ryana.

"Erm, she'll be along," Rhea said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "Something for her extra brewing, she said. I don't really…. I didn't really understand what she said. I'm hopeless at Potions."

Well, that was fair enough from what the Ravenclaw girls said about their joint lessons.

"What's all this, then?" Ryana asked, squinting down at the maze.

"Looks like a maze," Colin said. "From what I can tell, the Cup is hidden somewhere inside, and they have to get to the center. There must be all sort of things inside, though. Beasts and creatures and enchantments and stuff. Probably fun, if it weren't lethal."

Ryana shuddered, and Rhea frowned, but Ginny found she had to agree with Colin. Might be a bit of fun, anyway.

She settled in as the Champions were led forward and forgot they were waiting for anyone at all.

/-/

Rhea only began to grow concerned about twenty minutes into the task when a frantic Harry and a concerned-looking Hermione Granger made their way over.

"Where's Kitty?" Harry demanded, asking Ginny in particular.

"Apparently she's coming along," Ginny said, not bothered. "She had something she had to do for her extra brewing."

Hermione shook her head and said, "No, she shouldn't. She's between Potions. Professor Snape told me so this morning."

Rhea's heart began pounding, and she looked at Ryana, who looked a bit puzzled and stunned.

"I-I-I don't really know what to say," Ryana said weakly, but Harry was already pushing away, pulling Hermione in his wake. Ginny had jumped to her feet, and Rhea was wondering whether or not she should follow them. She glanced at Luna, who nodded, and they left a very puzzled Colin and Ryana sitting in the stands as they followed Harry and Hermione down toward the front of the stands, down toward the dignitaries and judges.

They were most of the way down when Rhea realized someone who should have been sitting there was missing. All of the seats for dignitaries and reserved seats for professors were filled, but one of the judge's seats was empty.

Igor Karkaroff was not present.

/-/

Hermione pushed through several people who tried to tell her to stop, aided by Harry pushing right through as well. Harry was highly recognizable, mostly because he looked just liked his father, and few adults were brave enough to tell a Potter what to do. When they finally got to Professor Dumbledore, he didn't ask what was wrong or why they were bothering. He looked at Harry's frantic distress and glanced at Hermione before saying, "Miss Black has not arrived as well?"

"No, sir," Hermione said anxiously.

"Very well," he said. He turned to Madam Maxime. "My dear madam, I must ask you to take over proceedings. I have a student who is in trouble. Hagrid," he added, turning to the nearest professor, "I need you to relieve Professors Snape and Black and have them meet me at the castle."

Professor Dumbledore looked over the faces of the students around him as if considering what order to give them, but before he could say a word, Harry said, "I'm not just going to sit in the stands while you look for her, sir. I need to look. I won't follow an order to not look for her."

"My dear Harry, I would never suggest such a thing," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "If you would come with me, I believe I have an idea or two where she might be."

/-/

Natalie sat up straighter when she saw Professor Black and Professor Snape hurrying away from the maze, moving faster than she'd seen either man move for any reason, out of the pitch and back toward the castle. She glanced at Jason. He'd seen, but he just frowned, curling his nails into his palms.

/-/

Hermione could barely keep up with Professor Dumbledore as they went down to the dungeons, and at first she thought this couldn't be the right direction. Why would someone say they were going to do something and then hide out near that something, if they didn't want to be found?

She was about to suggest this to Professor Dumbledore when she heard voices. No one else would still be at the castle. It was unfathomable that anyone would have not gone to the Tournament. A low voice was saying something she couldn't hear, but she heard a voice that was absolutely Catherine's answering.

"No," the voice said. "I don't…I don't think…. No."

Except it wasn't like Catherine. She didn't sound sure of herself or cocky at all, but muddled and confused.

Professor Dumbledore motioned for them to stand back and he blasted open the door to the unused dungeon.

Through the door, Hermione could see that Catherine didn't even respond to the exploding door, her eyes unfocused and puzzled, trying to concentrate on something but unable to hold the train of thought. Hermione recognized this as symptoms of the Imperius Curse from Professor Lupin's class, of one fighting the curse, and the thing Catherine was trying to focus on was Igor Karkaroff's hands. One was on her thigh at the hem of her skirt, the other working on the buttons of her top.

He startled when Dumbledore blasted open the door, and he pushed Catherine to the floor, obviously trying to think of an excuse for the situation he was in, perhaps trying to think of a way to blame it on Catherine, who didn't make a sound as she hit the stone floor, still dazed, looking up at them like she was trying to place who they were and what was happening.

Hermione felt horrified and mildly sick, and she grabbed Harry's shoulder as he tried to bolt in to pick Catherine up, to help her.

"Step away, Igor," Professor Dumbledore said firmly.

"This isn't what it looks like, Albus," the man said, paying no mind to the children behind the Headmaster.

"I said step away."

Obviously realizing he had no leg left to stand on, Karkaroff, pulled Catherine to her feet and put his wand to her throat in a very clear threat on her life. Professor Dumbledore froze, hesitating.

"She's precious to you, is she not?" Karkaroff said softly. "Like her mother, given more value than she's worth. Step back, Albus, or I'll empty her pretty little throat. You know full well I can."

After a small twitch of his jaw, Professor Dumbledore gestured for them to move back before he stepped out of the doorway, allowing Karkaroff into the corridor with Catherine, still noiseless and puzzled, still in his grasp.

"You won't get far," Dumbledore said softly. "Her father and Severus are on their way, and you know as well as I do, you are no match for either man alone, much less both together."

"Men are stupid about pretty girls," Karkaroff sneered. "That's how all this started, is it not?"

Dumbledore shook his head and said, "All these years, Igor, and you still cannot see the value and power of love."

Hermione gripped Harry's arm to keep him from charging Karkaroff. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that this man would not hesitate to kill Catherine, quickly and brutally, if anyone made a sudden move in his direction. She didn't even breath until he had backed around the corner and out of the corridor.

/-/

Draco couldn't put his finger on what was going on, but he knew it had to do with Catherine. When Diggory emerged with the Cup, there was a great roar, Hagrid said something to Professor Lupin, and the man hurried up to the castle like his life depended on it, the same way Professor Snape and Uncle Sirius had.

Without a word to anyone, Draco retreated to the staircase, not caring about Diggory and his celebrations. He was going to get answers for what was going on, and he was going to make certain nothing happened to his cousin. He spared a glance to Jason on his way out, and saw Jason had a straight face, but eyes so full of concern, it was amazing the boy hadn't started to cry.

/-/

"This way," Severus said, pointing toward the dungeons. "I can almost feel it."

"Me too," Sirius said, wishing he couldn't.

What they could feel was the Dark Magic associated with Karkaroff's Dark Mark. They hurried to the staircase, just as they saw Karkaroff backing carefully up to the bottom of the stairs. Severus raised his finger to his lips and Sirius nodded, doing a wordless Confundus Charm at Karkaroff's back, which allowed Severus to get close enough to be sure Catherine fell safely when they Stunned Karkaroff.

As soon as the man fell, Sirius rushed down the steps.

"Catherine?" he said, feeling his voice breaking with fear. There were footfalls behind him, and he could smell Remus.

"Daddy?" a small voice said.

"She's alright," Severus said, checking her over. "Puzzled and bewildered, but fine."

Sirius knelt at her side, trembling as he looked at her sweet, blinking eyes, clouded and unfocused from the Imperius Curse. With a shudder, he scooped her up and hugged her to him, the rest of the world fading as he heard Remus asking Severus what had happened. Catherine was in his arms, and she was alive, and everything else was just superfluous for the moment.

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Colin was in the crowd of people outside of the infirmary, waiting for news, and the crowd was growing every moment. Catherine was the only patient inside – for security purposes, apparently, the Champions were being treated by Mediwizards at the pitch – and only Dumbledore, a specialist, Madam Pomfrey, some Ministry wizards, and Professor Black were allowed inside. It had been an hour, and still no news, and Colin felt sick to his stomach.

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Sirius felt sick to his stomach as Catherine was examined and questioned. It was determined Karkaroff hadn't actually gotten around to sexually abusing her or molesting her, beyond touching her leg and beginning to undress her. Once this was established, the specialist began trying to determine what spells had been used on her, and what impact they had on her body and mind. As far as they could tell, she had only suffered the Imperius Curse, as though that weren't bad enough.

"Miss Black," the Healer said in a kind, understanding voice, "are you sure you remember nothing?"

"Yes, sir," she said with uncharacteristic meekness, her eyes looking at where her hand and Sirius's were intertwined. They hadn't moved since they'd settled her in this cot. She reminded him more and more of her mother the longer this went on, and Cara from when she was called Catherine, before she was sure of herself. Sirius wanted to torture Karkaroff but he couldn't leave his daughter. Not like this.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Erm, Ryana was acting sort of funny. She…she said she had a surprise for me, that it wouldn't take long and we could do it on the way to the Quidditch Pitch. I was concerned about her, so I figured I'd check it out," she said, frowning. "I…I remember the door to the dungeon opening, and I remember Karkaroff standing there, but I don't…I don't remember anything else until I heard my father say my name." She coughed. "Even that's fuzzy, like…like something out of a dream."

"Interesting," the Healer said under his breath, marking something on a clipboard. "Mr. Black, with your permission, I think we should induce sleep for several hours and see if the rest will help relieve some of the trauma block."

Sirius hesitated, but Albus nodded slightly and Sirius gave his consent. He kissed Catherine's fingers as she took the potion prescribed for this unconsciousness, and then he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in a hiss.

A Ministry man said to Sirius, "Mr. Black, where is Mr. Karkaroff?"

"How should I know?" Sirius said bitterly.

"Your daughter was abducted and molested," the man said with a stern voice. "I have a hard time believing you wouldn't know what became of him."

"I've not left my daughter's side since he was Stunned," Sirius said stubbornly, feeling hot satisfaction in his breast. "There are many witnesses to prove that much."

"Still," the man said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, "you would know—"

"These questions can wait, Dawlish," Albus said softly. "I will personally assist in the search for Igor. Let us leave Sirius to watch over his daughter."

Sirius waited until he was alone in the room with Catherine and Poppy Pomfrey before letting his satisfied smirk creep over his lips.

They would never find the body. Or, whatever was left of it.

 **A/N: The tone of the story begins to slowly shift, Catherine is not quite herself, and Sirius slips back to old ways.**

 **Review Prompt: What do you think happened to Karkaroff, knowing Sirius hasn't left Catherine's side?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: I can't help but wonder if Adra and Blaise will be a pairing. (gr8rockstarrox)**

 **A: As much as I hate being a party pooper, I can fully attest there will NOT be a pairing between Adra and Blaise. That's not to say one or more of these people won't have a pairing with someone else….**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	68. White Lies

**A/N: Here's your record seventh bonus!**

 **-C**

Cara paced Sirius's office feeling a frantic anger and pain in her chest. Severus had assured her he and Remus took care of the problem, and even Lucius Malfoy had expressed his sympathies for her situation, but they didn't understand, not the way she and Sirius did.

This was the sort of thing they'd wanted to keep their children from, to shield and shelter them from. This was why they'd fought a war. This was why she'd stabbed the Dark Lord, run him through with a sword. So that when she got around to having children, it would be in a safe, peaceful, better world.

But maybe the world was never really better. Maybe it was just a different kind of bad. At least during the war, it was easy to see what the dangers and evils were. There was a clear good and evil. Now men like Karkaroff ran schools and preyed on children to further his twisted agenda. Viktor Krum had even gone out of his way to express his horror and grief for what had happened, even when he should be lamenting his narrow loss to Cedric Diggory.

"Cat," Sirius said softly, looking up at her after an hour of silence. "They're never going to find him."

"That's not it," she said softly, allowing him to pull her onto his lap. "I just feel…I just feel like this is too much like what they did to me, Sirius. This is what they did, they messed with my head and preyed on my natural weaknesses to hurt the people who would care about me. He tried to get back at you and me through Kitty. And he preyed on all her weaknesses and maybe we should have prepared them for things like this."

"She's an excellent duelist, Cat. Beyond her age, well beyond her years."

She shook her head and rested it on Sirius's shoulder, pressing her forehead into his neck.

"I meant protecting her mind. D'you think Severus would be willing to teach her?"

Sirius stiffened.

"Why wouldn't we teach her?"

"Because we never bothered to learn Legilimency, love. How are we supposed to teach her if we can't test her walls? No, it would have to be Sev or Albus, and Albus is a bit too busy. Severus is already teaching her extra lessons."

"We'll see," he said, stiff and perhaps even irritated. "One step at a time. Let's see she heals from this alright before we start putting her mind under more stress, okay?"

Cara supposed that was reasonable. After all, she reminded herself, there was no war. This wasn't like when she was young, with a need to learn things quickly, regardless of wounds left unhealed.

"When will she wake again?"

"Another hour, darling. Then we can go and check in on her again, if you want to."

She wanted to. She was desperate to hold her little girl, so desperate, she had her brother babysitting Caroline, knowing full well that Caroline and Aeson would probably cause some minor but costly disaster at Lestrange Manor while she was staying at Hogwarts with Sirius, looking over Catherine.

"Jason should be able to see her tomorrow, if she doesn't take a turn for the worse," Sirius said softly. "Would you like a glass of wine while we wait?"

Cara hesitated. She didn't really want one, but it was better than asking for a sedative, and she knew that was why Sirius had suggested it. He wanted her to be calm when she saw their daughter, to not cause a scene. It would do Catherine no good if her parents were too emotional. Sirius had calmed enough to hold his screens, but Cara was still too distressed.

"Yes, just the one," she said softly, brushing her fingers through her locks as he called for a house-elf to bring her a glass of wine. She curled against him again, feeling like a child begging for comfort, and not a mother at all. She barely felt older and more secure than she did when she woke up with no memories, all those years ago.

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Dean sat down in the dormitory, watching Harry's face. He knew Harry was waiting to hear Catherine was deemed well enough to see him, and he knew after lunch, Harry would wait outside the infirmary, since he'd been doing that between lunch and dinner every day since the end of exams.

"Cleansweep says they're making a big announcement soon," Ron said, not looking up from the magazine spread across his lap.

"Maybe they're bankrupt," Seamus said weakly.

They'd all felt a bit weak since Catherine Black was attacked.

"Or maybe they're releasing a new broom," Neville said levelly. "We'll know when they make the announcement. Until they do, there's no point speculating. Harry, do you want to try calling her?"

"Already tried," Harry said, frowning slightly. "She doesn't have it with her. Must have left it in her dormitory, or Uncle Sirius might have taken in while she can't have visitors. Uncle Remus said she's…she's doing okay."

Neville nodded and said bracingly, "That's good. She'll see you soon, Harry. Just give her time."

But Dean understood how Harry felt. He remembered when his mother had taken ill when he was young, and how distressing it had been to be told that someone who was part of his usual day was off-limits. Even when you understand why, it was still distressing.

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Ryana answered all questions put to her, and she apologized profusely. It wasn't until she started to cry that Professor Dumbledore suggest the specialist Healer examine her and it was found she, too, had been subjected to an Unforgivable Curse.

Instead of feeling relieved, somehow, Ryana just felt guiltier. Professor Black told her there was no harm done, but Ryana couldn't shake the feeling he was lying to spare her psyche. Yes, Catherine wasn't physically harmed, and apparently remembered nothing, but what about when she began to remember? What about the stress of knowing something happened that she couldn't recall?

/-/

Adrasteia asked Draco if he had any news about Catherine, and he said that all he knew was that she was nominally well, but still under observation.

"The real question," Blaise said softly, "is what happened to Karkaroff."

"How do you mean?" Adrasteia asked.

"Well, he's vanished, hasn't he?" Blaise said, raising his dark eyebrows slightly. "And from what Draco tells me, he was certainly secure, and hardly someone they would treat with light security, so he can't have just gotten away. He wouldn't have gotten very far. So where is he?"

Draco's jaw tightened, and Adrasteia realized someone had done something perhaps as terrible as what Karkaroff had done – arguably worse.

/-/

When Catherine finally was allowed to go back to her dormitory, Harry got a call well after her usual curfew. He didn't hesitate to answer, worried that something was wrong and she needed help. Her eyes seemed strangely closed, but he supposed it was the mirror, the light.

"Take your cloak," she said softly. "Meet me in the alcove on the fifth floor."

"Won't it take you a while to get there?" he said, already fishing under his bed for the cloak.

"Don't worry about it. I've found a shortcut on the Map. See you soon."

Without another word, she closed off the line and he sighed. He pulled on his dressing gown and slippers, putting the mirror in his dressing gown pocket before pulling on the cloak and grabbing his wand. When he was certain his feet weren't visible, he carefully made his way down stairs, out of the portrait hole, and cautiously to the alcove she had mentioned. She was already there, knees pulled up to her chest, map on the stone beside her.

"Hey," he said nervously. "How are you feeling?"

Catherine shrugged, looking at her toes. He realized her slippers were off, on the floor, and her feet were red with cold. Without thinking, he pulled them onto his lap and wrapped them in part of his dressing gown to warm them.

"Can't you feel that?" he asked.

"Not really," she said hollowly.

"Kitty, they said you can't remember anything," he said softly, frowning. "Is that…is that true?"

She closed her eyes, bit her lip hard, and began to tremble, and Harry realized she'd very carefully lied to everyone. Whether she remembered everything or not, she remembered enough to hurt.

Harry pulled her close, feeling her shake like a leaf against his torso as he held on to her.

"I wish we would have found you sooner," he said, feeling terribly guilty. He should have been waiting for her at the castle. He should never have let her out of his sight. He should have called her directly, made plans to meet up. Something.

"It's not your fault," she said, clinging to him.

"Why haven't you said what you remember?"

She said nothing for a while before inhaling sharply. When she let out a slow, shaky breath, she said, "Daddy was…like nothing I've seen before, Harry. Even with the spiders, I never…." She shivered. "I need to be okay, because I can't see him like that. I'll be okay. Physically, I'm fine. So when people ask, I'm fine. How's…how's the search going?"

"Nothing yet," Harry said, frowning. He scratched his nose with the hand that wasn't holding her shoulder. "Uncle Remus doesn't seem worried about it. Has anyone asked you anything?"

"Why would they?" she asked, frowning. "I was in the infirmary. I wasn't even conscious for a lot of that day. There's nothing for me to know, is there?"

Harry supposed that was true, but he said nothing. He just held on to her and tried to decide what to do. Should he tell her father she remembered, or should he stick with her lie? Because she was right. He'd seen Uncle Sirius for a little while when she was unconscious in the early days, and it was as though someone had died.

"I've got good news, though," he said, with false cheerfulness.

"Hmm?"

"Hufflepuff won the Cup."

/-/

Ron frowned, watching Catherine Black sort of smile as she sat at the end of year feast, her whole House celebrating their win. Ryana Cotton looked nervous as well, but she was more capable of celebrating than Catherine seemed to be.

"It must be very strange," Hermione said softly, "not remembering something."

"Hmm?" Harry said, before frowning. "Oh, yeah. I bet."

Ron gave Harry a curious look then, but Harry was looking at the ceiling, seeming to be lost in thought. Ron was about to ask him what was wrong when Neville said, "D'you know if you'll be going to Selwyn Manor this summer, Harry?"

This seemed to jerk Harry out of his reverie, and he looked down at them, frowning slightly.

"No, we won't be," he said slowly. "The Blacks are staying at Grimmauld Place this summer. I think they're wanting a quiet time as a family, and I don't really blame them. Uncle Sirius and Aunt Cara are quite shaken."

Neville murmured his agreement, and Ron felt a bit disappointed. Maybe he would see Harry at Grimmauld Place, though.

/-/

Catherine felt a slight chill down her spine as her father carried her trunk up to his office, where her brother was going to join them. They weren't taking the train back, because of her "condition," but were instead Flooing straight home. She hadn't bothered protesting.

"Daddy," she said softly, "Karkaroff still hasn't been found."

He smiled at her and said, "Don't worry about it, Kitty-Cat. He won't hurt you ever again."

She didn't meet his eyes.

"Did you kill him?"

"Darling, I promise, I have nothing to do with it," he said firmly, tilting her chin so that she would look up at him. "You believe me, don't you?"

His eyes were somewhat closed off, but she could see the beseeching there. She recalled the change in Uncle Remus and Professor Snape over the last few days, and her shoulders relaxed.

"Yes, Daddy. I believe you."

She asked no further questions. She knew exactly what had happened to Igor Karkaroff.

/-/

Ginny sat on the train and looked at Rhea, who was reading a magazine with tight hands.

"Have you seen Cleansweep is releasing a new broom?" Rhea asked, before licking her thumb to turn the page. "Could be decent, if it works as well as they say."

"It's no Firebolt," Ginny said softly, closing her eyes, and soaking in the quiet of Catherine's lack of presence.

/-/

Jason heard Catherine's bedroom door close and he sighed, wondering if he should try to coax her out, or just leave it be for a while.

"Hey," Caroline said softly, frowning at him. "Mum's already said I can't ask what happened. She said Kitty needs space. D'you want to play chess?"

He hesitated, glancing up the staircase toward Catherine's bedroom, holding his breath as though he might hear her cry. If he'd heard anything that made him concerned, he would have gone up right away, but he supposed it was impossible, so he nodded and followed his little sister into the sitting room, where she'd already set up the chessboard.

"You can be whichever you'd like," she said softly, sitting down.

"I'll be white, I guess," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"How are you?" Caroline asked softly.

For the first time, Jason realized no one had asked how he was, how he was taking things, how he felt or if he was sleeping.

No one had given him details, but from rumors and visible facts, he could see quite plainly that Catherine had been attacked mentally and probably molested by Karkaroff, whom the papers had outed as a former Death Eater since the attack. He was still missing, probably dead, and Catherine supposedly remembered nothing, but was getting checked frequently for any changes in her mental state.

He hadn't slept hardly at all since she was attacked, had all but lost his appetite, and he'd not stopped to think about how he felt or what he thought about everything. In all actuality, he felt sort of hollow and low, like a weight of some kind was in his chest, dragging everything downward without hurting him, exactly. Heaviness, but no ache.

"I'm alright," he said. "Did you enjoy the zoo?"

Caroline hummed for a moment before saying, "I suppose that's the last time any of us is leaving the house until we have to buy school supplies. I heard Mum tell Auntie Lily that we're not going to Harry's birthday, even. It's like wrapping her in cotton."

Hearing Ryana's surname, thinking of how Catherine had been entrapped through the manipulation of one of her friends, Jason closed his eyes, took a breath, and sighed.

When he opened his mouth, he moved a pawn to start the game and said, "It'll be okay, Caro. They'll visit us, I'm sure. And you'll be going to Hogwarts with us next year. That'll be fun."

"Yeah, it will," she said, as though she weren't quite sure.

Jason knew it wasn't what he'd said that she wasn't sure about, but rather the thought that their mother would be alone for months. Before, neither of them would have thought of it, but now they'd seen how their mother had failed to cope well with Catherine's situation, they were concerned about what she would fill her days with. Jason supposed Aunt Cissy would keep an eye on her, and Uncle James and Aunt Lily.

But that was something that their father would see to. He would never let their mother be lonely without figuring out how to alleviate it.

"Everything will be okay," Jason said, as though he'd said it a hundred times in the last few days. Perhaps he had.

/-/

Caroline waited until everyone else was in bed before sneaking out to see her sister, who had not surfaced for dinner. When her mother had suggested summoning her again, their father said perhaps they ought to leave her be for a day or two, and she would come when she was ready.

Caroline, though, was not willing to wait.

When she slipped into the room, she expected Catherine to be asleep, but instead she was sitting up, staring at the mirror on the back of her closet door, from her bed.

"Kitty?" Caroline said, hesitating in the doorway as Catherine turned almost blank eyes to her. "I…I wanted to talk. About…anything, really. I've missed you."

Catherine's face softened and her eyes seemed to glisten in the moonlight, but she just gestured for Caroline to come in. Caroline hurried across the floor and sat at the foot of her sister's bed, reaching out to touch Catherine, who moved a bit closer so Caroline could touch her long, silky hair.

"Have you read about the Cleansweep 11?" Caroline asked weakly. "It's supposed to be quite good."

"I haven't," Catherine said, her voice hoarse from lack of use, and deep with emotions she obviously didn't want to share. "Tell me all about it, Caro."

Caroline did as asked, curling up against her sister, but on top of the covers, reciting dry facts as Catherine trembled wordlessly beside her.

/-/

Lily noticed how pale her son was when the picked him up from the train station, and it hadn't escaped her notice that he'd moved his food around his plate at dinner without actually eating hardly anything. James had suggested they leave it alone, but no matter how much Harry looked like his father, she saw enough of herself in him to stay in the kitchen until he wandered in near midnight, unable to sleep.

"Well, at least you aren't sneaking over to London," she said, smiling weakly as she set a cup of steaming tea in front of him. "I had a lot of sleepless nights during the war, Harry. It's not something that ever becomes easier."

He looked down at the tea and said, "I feel nauseous, but I'm not sick."

Lily waited until he took a few small sips of tea, watching his face. When he set the cup down, she took a drink of her own tea, slightly relieved.

"How do I help her when she's so closed up inside of herself?" he asked softly, maybe more to himself than to his mother, and Lily knew that was a trait from her. James cared about Sirius, but he never asked questions like that.

And Catherine was so like her father. Lily even suspected the girl remembered more than she was saying, and Harry's behavior only firmed her suspicions. Was it better or worse for her parents to believe Catherine remembered nothing?

In a way, Lily thought it might be worse…a little too close to the memory of how they were reunited during the war, and all of Bellatrix's schemes. That was part of what Karkaroff wanted, to mess with Catherine's head as a reminder of those strings on Sirius.

"All you can do," Lily said gently, "is to let her know you're always here for her, and when she's ready to open up, she will."

At least, Lily hoped she would.

 **A/N: So, Catherine and Harry have a big secret, Jason can't sleep, and no one knows quite what to do or say.**

 **Review Prompt: Should Catherine tell her father? And, perhaps more importantly, will she?**

 **Q &A: PLEASE ASK QUESTIONS!**

 **-C**


	69. Flipped

**A/N: So, this is bonus chapter eight, but here's where I drop a bomb. As of my type this, y'all have earned THIRTEEN bonuses this week. Expect more. Who knows, maybe you'll crack that record, too!**

 **-C**

Harry's fifteenth birthday was a muted affair, despite James's best efforts. He wanted his son to have the best possible birthday, especially as he was about to start the year of his O.W.L.s, perhaps one of the most painful years of his life – if he was lucky. Lily told James not to worry about it too much, that next year the Blacks would have calmed down a bit and things would have gone back to normal.

The Longbottoms came – Alice said because she knew the Blacks wouldn't be able to be there – but even with Neville's company and coaxing, Harry was sullen, brooding, and a bit melancholy. He was polite, of course, thanking them for every gift, making certain to tell James how delicious the meal and the cake were, but almost as soon as the Longbottoms were gone, he went up to his bedroom, and he didn't bring a single gift up with him.

"What d'you suppose he's doing up there?" James asked Lily, who was clearing away glasses.

"Oh, he could be doing a lot of things," Lily said with a shrug. "Reading. Writing. Maybe calling Kitty."

James frowned, sitting down in his chair, staring at the table. He couldn't imagine the hell Sirius was in. From the letters Cara wrote Lily, Catherine had barely left her room all summer, and every time she had she looked paler, thinner, almost like she was going through some kind of physical illness. The specialists said she would be fine, and the memories should have come back by now, but Catherine insisted she didn't remember anything.

"Wouldn't that be something," he muttered. "If they were both holed up in their rooms, only talking to each other."

"If they're talking to someone," Lily said breezily, "then I think it's alright. They've been through quite a lot, and it's healthier for them to speak to each other than not."

James hoped she was right, but knowing how Sirius hardly ever spoke about his troubles, and how stubbornly like her father Catherine was, he doubted she was saying much of anything.

"Should I bring his things up to his room?" James asked while Lily waved her wand, causing the cups to clean themselves while she put the cake away.

"Give him an hour or two," Lily said gently. "I think he needs a bit of space and quiet. Maybe we can go to Grimmauld Place in a day or two. It might do them both some good, coax Kitty out of her bedroom. He mentioned wanting to see the Blacks the other day. Maybe it's about time."

James agreed that this was a good idea, and he went to write Sirius straight away to suggest it, while Lily finished with the cups. He glanced at the clock on his way out of the kitchen so he could be certain when an hour had passed and could carry Harry's gifts up to him, and maybe check to see if he was alright.

/-/

Damon was a little bit annoyed with his twin and her regular, almost constant questions about when their letters would arrive. Ourania could seem to speak of little else, despite how pale and sickly Rhea had become, and how their parents had been doting on her.

From the papers and their limited information, Damon knew that Catherine Black had been attacked during the last day of the Triwizard Tournament by the Durmstrang Headmaster, who had apparently been a convicted and freed Death Eater during the war. Damon thought it was pretty sick that someone so clearly evil was allowed to go free just by tossing some names of other Death Eaters at the Ministry, but his father said that kind of thing happened sometimes, when people were afraid.

"D'you think they'll come tomorrow?" Ourania asked as Damon tried to focus on his book. Rhea had already gone to bed. She'd been going to bed early ever since she got home from school, and no one had argued. Cora wouldn't talk about it, either, although she seemed alright. She wrote to Jason Black frequently to check on how things were with his family.

"Maybe," Damon said softly, although he barely heard the question.

/-/

Harry waited for his parents to go to sleep before calling Catherine and telling her all was clear.

Technically, when he'd snuck to London, he only promised not to do _that_ again. Neither of them had said anything about her coming to Godric's Hollow.

He was in the sitting room to catch her as she stumbled out of the grate, helping her steady herself on her feet before she could brush herself off.

"Isn't your father a light sleeper?" she hissed into the darkness.

He nodded and gestured toward the front door, indicating they should take a walk, which she nodded to in agreement. They carefully opened the door, slipping out into the moonlight, walking up the street toward the church. It was a warm night, a drought and a heatwave striking the country, and Catherine was wearing a sundress without a single sign of cold. In fact, Harry thought she might be sweating slightly, the way her skin was glistening in the moonlight.

"How's it been?" he asked softly, his voice sounding strangely small in the open air.

"Daddy's tiptoed around me on eggshells," Catherine said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Caro visits my room sometimes to talk about nothing, and she brought Jason in this afternoon. They played chess on my floor. Maybe I'll start having lunch tomorrow. I don't know."

Harry just nodded, afraid to ask how she was feeling, how her recovery was going, because what if she didn't want to talk about it? He didn't want to bring up things that would upset her.

"The moon looks nice," she said, smiling. "Not quite full, so that's always good, but bright enough that you can see where you're going without a wand or a torch or a candle or anything."

"Yeah," Harry said.

Both started at the sound of a door slamming up the street, and the sound of shouting.

"What was that?" Catherine asked, breathless.

"Dunno," Harry said, frowning. "Domestic squabble, I guess. I'm not usually out this late. I know that most of the houses on that side of the church are wizards, but I never walk that far."

"Probably nothing," she whispered, still walking toward the church, so Harry followed her.

The front door of a house up the way opened abruptly, a woman running into the street in her nightgown, not even wearing a dressing gown. Harry felt slightly sick with worry, a tingling in his hands he hadn't felt since realizing Catherine was missing from the Third Task, and she froze beside him, watching the woman stumble and fall. He thought he should offer to help the woman, but he was rooted to the spot somehow, and before the woman could regain an upright position, a man came barreling out of the house, the two teenagers watching, holding their breath.

/-/

Astoria Greengrass shivered as she heard her sister scribbling in the next room, no doubt writing another gossipy letter to Pansy Parkinson about Catherine Black and her now infamous condition. As disgusting as it was, Astoria knew the other two girls had become particularly interested in the situation, not for any concern with the girl in question, but because of Draco Malfoy's blatant concern for Catherine Black's well-being.

To Astoria, it was obvious. They were second cousins, family. What was more, it seemed Draco and Catherine Black were also friends, as much as he was friends with Blaise Zabini.

When _Witch Weekly_ took the attack on one of the most famous families in wizarding Britain to talk about how if Catherine Black hadn't been sexing herself up to catch the eye of Cedric Diggory it never would have happened, Astoria had gone past being annoyed with her sister and into being disgusted. Any fool could see Catherine Black had no interest in Diggory, nor had she undergone any great change in her appearance during the year. Even if she had, it was hardly an excuse for a grown man attacking her and using illegal magic on young girls to accomplish his sick goals.

Astoria toyed with the idea of hexing her sister, but she decided it wasn't worth the effort.

/-/

The man was shouting at the woman, cowering over her, and when he raised his hand, Catherine gasped, darting forward.

"Kitty, no!" Harry said, but she'd got a head start, and she was out of reach when he went to hold her back. When the first blow landed on the woman, who shrieked in pain, Kitty was already halfway to the fight, and Harry rushed after her.

"Stop it!" Catherine cried. The man payed her no notice, and Harry didn't get to her in time. "No, you can't do this!"

She reached out for the man's arm, and he turned to her, and Harry could see the fury in his eyes at being interrupted.

"No!" Harry cried as the man hit Catherine, throwing her off him, going back to striking the woman.

Lights were coming on at nearby houses now, and Harry reached Catherine, holding her down to keep her from trying again as she sobbed, screaming for the man to stop, but he didn't stop. Hideously, Harry realized as doors and windows started opening, up and down the street, that the woman had stopped crying and screaming, and the only sounds were the man hitting the woman, and Catherine shrieking for Harry to let her go, to do something.

Some men from nearby houses came out, wands in hand, and the man was Stunned, and a woman knelt to see if Catherine was alright while the men looked at the woman.

Catherine could see what was happening better, over Harry's shoulder, and she began to tremble violently, going strangely silent, her eyes wide. Harry didn't have to hear the men to know the woman was dead, and Catherine was clinging to him, closing her eyes, seeming to have difficulty breathing.

"Where do you live?" the woman asked Harry.

He was only slightly aware of the question as he hugged Catherine to him. She was crying against his neck, her tears hot on his skin. A few Aurors arrived on the scene, and he saw one of them was Rhea's father.

"Harry?" he said gently. "What's Kitty doing here? Where are your parents?"

Harry said nothing, still holding Catherine, wishing there was something he could do more than that, as Mr. Prewett instructed the woman who had been asking Harry questions on where Harry's parents were, and to bring them as quickly as she could.

/-/

Cara woke with a sense that something was wrong, and Sirius was wrapped around her. She took a deep breath before trying to extract herself from him, which naturally woke him.

"Cat," he sighed, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she said, pulling out of his arms, "but something's wrong, Sirius. Something's really wrong."

"It's a bad dream," he sighed, touching her shoulder and trying to coax her back with tired caresses. "Come back to bed."

She hesitated, and he sat up, a bit more awake, before kissing her shoulder. She was about to agree with him and lay back down when Lily's Patronus came through the window, and Cara's heart skipped several beats.

/-/

Fabian sat with James and Harry, having taken Harry's statement on the murder the children had witnessed.

"Kitty," Harry said anxiously. "Is she alright?"

"She's going to be okay, Harry," Fabian said gently, grateful it wasn't his children, sneaking out in the middle of the night and witnessing murders. "Her parents just got here, and the Healer told me she's got slight bruising, but she's handling herself well and the bruises will be gone in a couple of days. You'll have to speak at the hearing, of course, but her specialist came and said he was very pleased with her condition."

Harry nodded numbly, and James stood, whispering to Fabian, "Thanks, mate. Tell Sirius I'm going to come see Kitty when Lily's got Harry back in bed, yeah?"

Fabian said he would, smiled bracingly at Harry, and went to collect Catherine's statement.

/-/

Colin woke from the same nightmare for the third time that week, his palms sweating as he recalled how terrifying it was, to see everyone rushing off to find Catherine, leaving the Quidditch pitch, the action of the Triwizard Tournament, to find the girl.

He must have cried out again, because his mother was at his door, frowning in at him.

"Same nightmare?" she asked as he sat up, shivering.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his eyes. "It'll go away. When the shock does."

"Do you want some cocoa?"

"Yes, please."

/-/

Fabian sat down with Sirius, Cara, and Catherine. The Blacks were still in their dressing gowns and slippers, and Sirius was clinging to his daughter like he thought she would vanish if he let go.

"Sorry, mate," Fabian said, frowning slightly. "I've got to ask some questions for the report."

"I know," Sirius said, caressing his daughter's hair. "I know."

"Now," Fabian said, opening his notes again, "Harry says you arranged to meet. You Flooed here from London, and you decided to go for a walk."

"Yeah," she said, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Yeah, we didn't want to wake his parents, so he suggested we walk. And we walked toward the church."

"Why?"

"We always do," she said with a shrug. "It's just an easy landmark."

"What was your first sign of trouble?" he said.

"Erm, we heard a door slam," she said, rubbing her forehead. "Like…like loud. We could hear it from about…ten houses away. And we sort of ignored it when the yelling started, until the woman came out on the street."

Fabian didn't interrupt Catherine, just listening and nodding as he scribbled down her words. She had a remarkable strength in her voice, considering what she'd been through, and the way she'd been struck while trying to stop a murder.

"You'll have to speak at the hearing," he said when she'd finished her account. "As will Harry."

"When will that be?" Cara asked softly.

"Within the next couple of weeks, probably," he said, with a sad smile. "Bureaucracy takes forever, you know. I suggest laying low, as well, because the papers are going to get a sniff of this and Kitty's name is going to be everywhere again."

"We're not leaving the house until they get their letters," Sirius said, letting his daughter wrap tired arms around his neck. "And that goes for all of us, Catherine."

"Yes, Daddy," she said, kissing his cheek sweetly.

Fabian sat up a bit straighter as James came over, placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder and kissing Cara's cheek.

"Hey, Kitty," he said, smiling weakly. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," Catherine said, lifting her head to look up at him. "How's Harry?"

"His mum's taking him to bed," James said gently. "Sirius, they're going to have to speak at the hearing."

"I told him," Fabian said.

Sirius pulled Catherine closer, and he looked up at James and said, "Prongs, you should bring Lily and Harry and stay at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer."

"Oh, Sirius, we couldn't—"

"Please," Cara said firmly. "We've plenty of space, and I would feel so much better if you were there."

Fabian understood exactly why Sirius and Cara were so desperate to have the Potters stay with them in London. If Harry was under their roof, there was little chance of the teens sneaking out again, especially in a house so large where they could talk in a corner of it without waking anyone. James, obviously realizing why they were asking, agreed he'd pack them up and move everyone by lunch.

Fabian had a few more witness statements to gather, and then he swore to himself he'd check all his children's beds before climbing in beside his wife. Just in case.

/-/

First thing in the morning, Brontes saw Catherine's name in the paper again, on the front page, and his mother nearly fainted.

"Oh, bloody hell," his father spat at the paper, hurrying out of the room, no doubt to check on Aunt Cara and Catherine, while their mother shrieked after him about swearing in front of the children.

Brontes was still staring at the paper, his eyes grazing the article about some unimportant person murdering his unimportant wife in the middle of the street in Godric's Hollow.

And Catherine Black, who never should have been there, tried to stop him, and was injured for her troubles. She and Harry Potter would be speaking at the closed hearing on the matter, and the journalist said Healers were closed on Catherine's condition after the incident, especially given her being assaulted at Hogwarts just weeks prior.

Brontes stood, ignoring his mother's insistence that he sit and eat breakfast. He went straight to the main sitting room, where the fireplace was, and his father pulled out of the fire call just as he entered.

"She's fine," he said, rubbing his neck. "She's fine, and the Potters are staying at Grimmauld Place starting this afternoon. Aunt Cara's taking it well."

Brontes watched his father sigh, rub his forehead, and sit down in a nearby armchair. Brontes sat across from him, looked up at his tired face, and said, "Trouble seems to follow her everywhere, doesn't it?"

"Yes," his father responded with a frown, "but I think we'd find she found a lot less of it if she didn't sneak out of the house in the middle of the night."

They said nothing for a long moment, and Brontes merely nodded to himself until his father decided breakfast really was important, indicating it was time to return to the rest of the family.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine find another pickle, the Potters will be staying at Grimmauld Place, and we get to see Fabian on the job.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were a Potter or Black parent, what would your creative but kind method for keeping the children from sneaking out at night be?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Do you think that Catherine and/or Harry will eventually become Animagi like their fathers? (ravenclauses)**

 **A: Great question. Catherine and Harry do NOT become Animagi, but there will be at least one Animagus out of all the childrens. Say who would be telling. ;) You're more than free to guess.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	70. Bright and Beautiful

**A/N: Here's Bonus Nine for the week, and more to come! Keep those reviews rolling in!**

 **-C**

After lunch, the Potters were moved in to Grimmauld Place, given two guest rooms and cups of tea, and welcomed in on eggshells by the Blacks. Harry and Catherine kept looking at each other across the sitting room, and Harry felt terribly anxious.

The thing he kept telling himself – though never out loud – was if they'd just stayed in the house, it never would have happened. They would have seen nothing. The woman would still be dead, but Catherine would never have seen it, and she wouldn't have those bruises across her face. They were lesser than they'd been the night before, but still quite prominent.

Almost as soon as tea was over, Catherine retreated up to the attic, and Caroline dragged Harry's mother to look at her room. Harry and Jason took an Exploding Snap pack down to the kitchen, but they didn't open it when they got there. They simply sat at the kitchen table, the pack of cards between them, not looking at each other.

Finally, Jason said, "I think it's a good thing, her being in the attic."

"How so?"

"Well, before she wouldn't leave her room. But she's been in the attic all day. It's…where she used to spend her time, before she went off to school. And she even let Caroline sit with her while we were waiting for you guys to come." Jason hesitated before saying, "Honestly, it's Dad I'm worried about."

Harry nodded solemnly, thinking of how much Uncle Sirius had gone through over the course of a few months, worrying about Catherine. When he'd arrived in Godric's Hollow the night before, he'd been pale and trembling, pushing through strangers to find his daughter, lunging at her and checking her over for injuries apart from the bruising. If the man had still been there, Harry had no doubt that Uncle Sirius would have tried to wring his neck.

"When's the trial?" Jason asked.

"Dunno," Harry said, rubbing his hands on his jeans. "Soon. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, honestly, but it'll be soon. Does Kitty go see the specialist, or does the specialist come here?"

"Dad's been taking her, but it's only once every two weeks. They're due Friday, I think. I don't know if they'll be going more often after this or not, though."

The two boys continued to sit in the silence of the kitchen until they heard footsteps at the top of the stair and scrambled to set up their game of Exploding Snap. Harry's father came down to the foot of the stairs, smiled at them, and asked who was winning. Both boys just shrugged.

"Jason, your Mum wants to know if you think you'll be hungry enough to eat at four, or if you think we should wait."

Jason said eating at four would be fine, but waiting would be, too, and Harry's father said they'd ask Catherine, then, and see if she minded either way. He gave Harry a sad smile before going back up the stairs at the same steady, almost plodding rate.

/-/

On his wife's request, Lucius was making a few quiet inquiries about an upcoming trial. Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was a kind of personal interest (friend was too strong of a word) of Lucius's, and agreed to go to lunch with him.

"I have heard a relative of my wife will be called in as a witness on an upcoming case," Lucius said casually after the Minister's soup was delivered.

"Yes, yes, terrible business," Fudge said solemnly, picking up his soup spoon with slightly pudgy fingers. "That is right, I had quite forgotten your wife is a Black. Yes, the eldest child of Mr. Black and the child of Mr. Potter were witnesses. Horrible business."

"What exactly is the nature of the case?" Lucius asked with an air of casual interest.

"Cut and dried, we should think. Especially with the testimony of the children, it's very clear the man lost control of his senses and beat his wife to death in the street. He also assaulted Miss Black in her attempt to stop him, which Healers can verify. With families like that against him, he'll be locked up."

"Indeed," Lucius said, knowing Narcissa would be pleased to know the case would not be a dramatic one, after the whole mess with Igor. He sipped his water.

/-/

About an hour before dinner, Harry went up to the attic, where he hadn't visited in years. For a moment, he was transported back in time, everything precisely where he remembered it. Even Catherine was where he expected her to be, like when they were children.

"You've spent a lot of time up here," he said as though explaining his presence, watching Catherine sit in her usual spot. The sunlight streamed in from a nearby window, and her hair seemed to glow in the soft light. Harry sat on a trunk across from her, watching her soft brown eyes search his face.

"I'm going to show you something," she said, whispering, smiling for the first time since her assault at school. "I've never showed anybody but Daddy. You can't laugh."

Harry shook his head, and he watched her pull up a loose board, removing a stack of items. Books; a stack of letters, one at least he could see was from him; the Snitch he gave her when he won the Quidditch Cup his third year; a program from the World Cup. He realized this was her secret hiding place for things most special to her.

He looked up at her face, saw a kind of vulnerability there he'd never seen before, in the anxiousness as she waited for his response to these things, this revelation. He touched the Snitch, watching its wings come out, seeing it flutter the little gold wings and hover between them.

For the first time in his life, he understood what Ron and George and Seamus and all those other boys saw when they looked at her. She was really quite beautiful, and when she wasn't fighting with him about something she was even…attractive. The thought was strange, like he'd been told that rain didn't actually come in drops, but in some other form.

He still couldn't fathom why anyone wanted to date her. After all, she was crazy. She could be vindictive, competitive, stubborn. Not to mention Uncle Sirius would surely bring suffering on anyone who dared ask her on a date.

But she was beautiful. That was certain.

"That's cool," he said, not sure what else to say. Her face seemed to relax slightly, and she closed her eyes, humming for a moment. She looked even more beautiful like this. Peaceful, like she was sleeping. Harry thought bitterly that she'd be even more beautiful if not for the bruise blooming across her cheek. He half wanted to strangle the man for ruining this moment of realization for him.

"I don't suppose we can stay up here all night," she said softly.

"You don't want to have dinner?"

"Not hungry," she said, but he knew she was lying. Apparently, she'd been eating almost nothing for weeks. Catherine had a prodigious appetite. Eventually, she'd have to eat.

Harry just raised an eyebrow at her, smiled a little, and told her he'd see her at dinner before retreating back to the main house.

/-/

Pansy rolled her eyes as her father read the news out to their mother. Of course Catherine Black would be in the news again. She just couldn't stand the wizarding world not focusing on her.

"Oh, terrible," her mother said with a sigh of sympathy. "And how distressing for her parents. Isn't that the one who was attacked in June?"

Her father said she was, and Pansy resisted the urge to snort, knowing her mother would scold her for doing so.

"Her poor mother," her father said, and this troubled Pansy. Her father didn't usually say things like that. "You know, she's the one who suffered so much during the war."

"Oh, yes, I recall."

Pansy sat up a bit straighter, curious for more information about Catherine Black's mother, but in sitting up she made enough sound to draw attention to herself, and her mother asked her to go check in on the greenhouse, see if there were any plants that required attention. Pansy left, reluctantly, as her mother seemed to return to the letter she was writing as though she wasn't just waiting for her daughter to leave the room so she could resume the conversation she'd been having.

/-/

At dinner, Harry watched Catherine for any signs of mental or emotional fatigue, which was the word their parents were using to describe her condition to her siblings. Eerily, Harry saw she was almost her old self again. In spite of telling him she didn't want to be at dinner, she was bright, receptive, and not at all withdrawn and dulled like she was supposed to be. He wondered if it was an act, or if the incident in Godric's Hollow had been, weirdly, good for her.

/-/

Ron couldn't stop pacing his room. Ginny had written to Catherine and he'd written to Harry, but neither had gotten a response as yet. Ginny said they were probably fine, and their father had said the trial would most likely be a very simple one, given the nature of the crime and the number and nature of the witnesses.

When they'd learned Catherine had been injured during the incident, George nearly sicked up at the breakfast table, and Ron had been a bit woozy. Ginny had gone paler than was probably healthy.

Another explosion from the twins' room. They were taking this joke shop thing so seriously, and Ron supposed work would keep George from worrying too much about their friends. But there was nothing Ron could apply himself to for the same relief. He thought about checking in on Ginny, but if she'd succeeded in distracting herself, he didn't want to make it worse.

Without anything else to do, Ron turned his attention to a stack of comics and took a deep breath, wishing he could properly distract himself.

/-/

Catherine sat up, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, wishing she could sleep. She'd managed to eat, mostly for her father's sake, but every time she tried to sleep she could see Karkaroff, could feel his horribly callused hand on her thigh. The second she started remembering, she felt sick, and it was better to have an empty stomach if she was nauseous. No mess to make.

She was afraid to open her eyes, and she almost wished Caroline would drop by, distract her from her own mind.

When there was a knock at the door, so soft she almost didn't hear it, she thought it might be her sister, and Catherine asked whoever was there to come in, figuring it was probably her father checking if she was sleeping.

Even that would be welcome.

It wasn't her father. It was Harry, with wide eyes and a pale face.

So she wasn't the only one with nightmares.

She moved over on her bed to make room for him, and he sat beside her, over the covers, pulling the blanket folded at the foot of her bed to cover his slipper-less feet.

"You can't sleep either?" he asked, scratching his nose and leaning back on her pillows. He looked strange without his glasses, different. She couldn't remember a time when he hadn't needed glasses, and she hardly ever saw him without them. His eyes had a very nice shape, she thought. Almond-shaped, like his mother.

"I haven't really slept in weeks," she said, frowning to herself.

"Every time I close my eyes I see that poor woman," Harry said softly. "I should have done something."

"There was nothing to do."

"I could have…Stunned him or something."

"You didn't have your wand."

"I should have."

Catherine hummed. She couldn't argue with irrationality. There was no reason for him to carry his wand on a walk to the church in the middle of the night.

"Every time I close mine," she whispered, "I'm back in the dungeons."

Harry said nothing for a long time, and she was beginning to suspect that he'd fallen asleep. She was about to turn to check, but then he said, "Maybe you should tell someone you remember."

"I can't."

Surely he knew what that would do to her father, and he was clearly so fragile with the whole thing. She couldn't do that to him.

"Well, you should tell someone what you remember," Harry said. "I've been reading, and they say that with trauma it helps to recount the events. It's therapeutic."

Catherine had read the same thing, but no one knew she remembered except Harry. He was the only person she could talk to, and that was why she'd gone to Godric's Hollow in the first place. She licked her lips and rolled over, resting her head against his arm. He moved closer, letting her shift so her head was on his shoulder, and his arm was around her shoulders. His hand was warm against her arm, and she could hear his heartbeat, could feel the rhythm of his breath.

"Ryana was so strange," she said softly, resting her hand on his chest. "That was what I was thinking. And then I had this strong urge to go into the door she opened, without her saying a word. I hadn't even seen him yet. When I did, there was this…this voice that wasn't my voice telling me not to be afraid of him, to sit on the table beside him.

"I wasn't sure why I wanted to do it, but I did. I still had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when he looked at me, but I had this urge not to move, so I didn't. He said all kinds of things, about how much he hated Daddy, about how precious I was. It was such a strange word, Harry. I can't even begin to understand what he meant."

She hadn't expected Harry to have answers, but he said, "To your dad, maybe. Or how important your family is. Or like…like a precious jewel or something. Like, beautiful and important?"

Catherine hummed, but whatever the reasoning, it just made her feel unclean. She took a deep breath and continued her story.

"He started touching my hair, running his hands through it, smelling it. And I just sat there. Part of me wanted to scream and run, or punch him in the face. But that horrible voice in my head just kept telling me to sit still, even as he touched my jaw, and ran his hands over me over my blouse and skirt.

"He sat down and told me to sit on his lap, and I hesitated, but I did it." Harry shivered. "I know, I still can't understand why that didn't break it. I can still feel his hands on my thigh. And I didn't say anything until he started unbuttoning my blouse. He was telling me to take off my skirt, and I really didn't want to do it. The voice in my head was telling me what a great idea it was, but I kept struggling, and that's when Dumbledore came in. Where…where you came in."

Harry sighed, hugging her a bit tighter, and he said, "He's gone. That's what matters."

"I know he is," Catherine whispered, wondering if Harry realized what Professor Snape and Uncle Remus had done. She still didn't know how she felt about it, how she should feel.

/-/

Luna helped her father run through the newly printed papers to get a sense of anything that might need to be redone. She was uncomfortable with printing articles about Catherine being attacked, but news was news, and her father was dealing with it rather tastefully, she thought. Still, there was nothing nice about seeing the headline over and over.

Catherine hadn't answered any letters yet, but Ginny confirmed that Ron got a letter back from Harry. Apparently, the Potters were staying with the Blacks, and Catherine was doing okay for the moment. Luna wondered what that meant, "doing okay," but she supposed Harry would know better than anyone else how Catherine was really doing. Luna had suspected Catherine knew more about her original trauma than she was letting on, and this second one might cause her to seek healthy outlets for what she was going through.

Luna thought she'd wait a few days before sending a letter. She might get a response if she didn't smother her friend.

"Dad," she said, setting her stack down, "you're friendly with the Blacks, aren't you?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose," he said, measuring the margins on the newspaper he was looking over. "It's been a very long time since I saw them, but Sirius and I always got on fine. You're friends with his daughter, aren't you?"

"Yes," Luna said, scratching the top of her head. "You don't know anything more about the situation with the trial, do you? We're all concerned about her."

/-/

Jason was sent up to ask Catherine if she was coming down for breakfast in the morning, and he knocked on her door. When there was no answer, he slowly opened the door and looked in. He saw Harry and Catherine fast asleep on Catherine's bed, Harry with his own blanket, but the two of them curled up together, with Catherine's head on Harry's chest and his arm around her.

Hesitating for a moment, Jason decided to carefully close the door, let them sleep, and tell his father he didn't think it good to wake either of them. He wouldn't mention they were both in Catherine's room. After what she'd gone through, Jason thought it might be good to spare her from certain overreaction.

 **A/N: So, Harry thinks Catherine's beautiful, Catherine's spoken, and Jason is managing the situation as best he can.**

 **Review Prompt: Any bets on how long it takes for Harry to change his mind about it being worth braving Sirius's wrath?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Where is Peeves? (T1p2)**

 **A: *coughs* Well, I couldn't fit EVERYTHING. Nobody's that organized. I mean, he does appear on occasion, but he's not a major part of the story, certainly not as much as he was in Rowling's original storyline.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	71. Fresh Start

**A/N: Here's another bonus! Still more to come today!**

 **-C**

Lily had to meet with some people at the Ministry sooner or later, so she opted to accompany Sirius to take the children to the trial. Strictly speaking, she could have just taken them herself, but Sirius was so anxious about it that he felt he needed to be there.

Catherine looked beautiful, her face mostly healed – but just enough bruise left to help her testimony. Her skin was otherwise porcelain pale, her hair smooth and shining, her large brown eyes cool without being cold. The thin black sundress she wore looked classy, but was also very thin and flowing, stating quite clearly to anyone who was looking that Catherine was no longer a child, but a girl on the precipice of being a woman. Sirius had certainly noticed, and he was walking closer to her than was strictly natural as they entered the Atrium, as though warning off all men that his daughter was not to be ogled.

If Harry had noticed, though, it wasn't distracting him, which Lily found amusing. When the two were babies, Cara and James used to joke about how the two would marry and birth a whole Quidditch team for James to manage in his old age. Sirius only thought that was funny until Catherine was old enough to walk, and then he became incredibly protective at even the suggestion of a boy touching her. Even Harry.

"Lift's this way," Sirius said, gesturing once they'd been checked in at the visitor's desk. Catherine linked her arm with her father's, almost leaning on him leisurely as they walked. If this bothered Sirius, he made no sign. If anything, Lily mused, he was probably pleased with the gesture.

They took the lift down to the bottom floor, where the courtrooms were.

"Courtroom ten," Lily said, reading the sign and nodding down the corridor toward the room in question.

Some of the Wizengamot were sitting, settled, already. Harry looked around with a slight frown. Lily waved at Amelia Bones, who said a quick word to the man she'd been speaking to and quickly crossed to the newcomers, shaking Sirius's hand and turning to Lily.

"The Minister is on his way," she said softly, "and we're waiting on a few other witnesses to arrive before we bring in the accused." She raised an eyebrow before turning to Catherine. "How are you feeling, Miss?"

"Fine, thank you, Madam," Catherine answered, not exactly coolly, but rather closed. She squeezed her father's arm just a bit tighter.

Amelia smiled slightly, as though thinking something as she glanced up at Sirius.

"Miss Black and Mr. Potter will have to sit with the other witnesses," Madam Bones said, gesturing to the row of witnesses to be called – people who lived in the neighborhood and a few people from the hospital. "But I believe the Minister intends to call them first so they will not have to sit through the rest of the trial. I could send you a message with the verdict if you think you'll be leaving when they have testified."

Lily glanced at Harry and Catherine for confirmation, and Harry turned to Catherine, who nodded slightly. This was apparently all they wanted, so Lily told Amelia this would be fine, and gripped her son's shoulder, nodding toward the seats set aside for the pair of them. Sirius kissed his daughter's hair, and then Lily led Sirius back to the gallery, sitting him down.

"You know, I think this will be good for them, in the long run," Lily said softly. "They might start to take life a little more seriously."

Sirius frowned and said, "I don't want them to have to."

"It doesn't work like that, you know," she said, smiling sadly. "Yes, there's no war and no battles and stuff like that, but this is proof there's always things to be on guard for. And they really have quite a talent for finding trouble. Better they take it with the weight it deserves and maybe they'll be able to properly enjoy things."

/-/

Natalie opened her letter from Hogwarts over breakfast, letting her eyes run over the list of books she would have to acquire for the upcoming year. She made a quick shopping list, adding the books to the list of ingredients she would need to top up, and a new set of robes or two because she was growing rather faster than her clothes could comfortably manage.

Her mother sat down, looking at the list and reading it upside down before nodding, sighing, and saying, "Well, at least they haven't saddled you with a great number more books. This school is rather expensive, isn't it?"

"No more expensive than anywhere else I would have gone, Mum," Natalie said softly, frowning and thinking about how strange it was for her mother, that her daughter was going to a school for magic.

Still, she understood Natalie was doing well in her courses, that she had made friends, and that there were a lot of careers she would be able to get with the education she was receiving.

In fact, her mother was most interested in what Natalie had told her about the families of her friends, and how she had friends like Dennis who were perfectly normal people with perfectly normal Muggle families, and then people like Cora and Jason from rather wealthy and important families in the wizarding world whose names would mean nothing in Muggle society. Natalie didn't think Jason's family was particularly important or interesting, but she'd been keeping her newspapers from her mother's eyes, knowing the headlines about Jason's sister would horrify her mother.

/-/

The accused, Lily thought bitterly, was very obviously not repentant. He was brought into the courtroom and held his head high, sat down, and ignored the reading of his crimes. He pleaded not guilty in spite of the fact there was a whole row of witnesses lined up to speak against him.

Fudge called Harry forward first, and Lily held her breath, although she couldn't think why.

/-/

Aeson licked his lips and opened the letter from Hogwarts that told him he was accepted to begin. He tossed the list at his mother, not interested in what needed to be purchased for him to go to school. What mattered was he was going, and Caroline would be going, and he was going to beat her at…well, everything if he managed it.

"Oh, darling, this is wonderful," his mother said, as though getting accepted into Hogwarts was actually an accomplishment, and not just a rite of passage for one of his birth. "We'll have to get you something special."

"Sure," he said. "I'm going to write Caro."

His father raised an eyebrow and said, "Aeson, leave it for later. Catherine's bound to be at the Ministry right now. Wait until the mess is over before you bother them."

Aeson didn't feel like it was much of a bother, but he supposed if his father was telling him to do something later, it was important to listen to him.

/-/

Lily felt Sirius tense beside her when Catherine was called forward, sitting down in the witness box with a confidence beyond her years.

"Miss Catherine Black," the Minister read out. "Daughter of Sirius and Cara Black. Residing primarily in London, at Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

"Yes, sir," Catherine said.

It astonished Lily sometimes, how much like her father Catherine could sound at times. That bored, superior, cool and confident tone Sirius used in school whenever a teacher ever called on him. Catherine had that same way about her, and she seemed to have figured out exactly when to use it, this particular moment definitely being one of them. Lily knew many of the people on the Wizengamot expected her to behave in the classic way pureblood children were brought up to behave, knowing they were the most important person in the room. Especially as a Black.

"Please explain the night of the event in question," Fudge said, nodding to her.

Catherine's nostrils flared slightly and said, "I Flooed to Godric's Hollow. Harry and I decided to take a walk, as he just said. We heard a door slam, and shouting. And we were just deciding it wasn't really our business when the wife of the accused rushed into the street and collapsed. I thought perhaps we should try to help her when her husband came out and started hitting her."

"And you tried to stop him," Fudge said, "as Mr. Potter said?"

"Yes," she said, leaving off the respectful address. "I tried to pull him away, but he struck me down and threw me off. I still have this bruise, as you see."

"Noted," Fudge said.

"Harry came to check on us," she continued. "Myself and the woman being attacked. But she was dead."

"Dead," Fudge said, with a nod.

"Murdered by her husband," Catherine said coolly. "In cold blood, and right in front of us. Beaten to death. And I really don't see that there's anything more to discuss on the matter. Bit of a sham this has taken so long to be dealt with in the first place."

Sirius snorted softly at Lily's side, and Lily felt a rush of relief at the sight of him fighting a smile. Catherine and Harry were dismissed from the court, and Amelia winked at Lily on the way out to express her appreciation of the testimony of the children.

In the lift, Sirius said, "So, who wants milkshakes?"

Lily laughed watching Sirius hug Catherine to him. She let him take them to a hamburger place with plastic seats and apparently very good milkshakes. Catherine and Harry, who rarely went into Muggle London for anything except buying clothes, looked at everything with intense interest, and Sirius paid for four milkshakes. He kissed Catherine's cheek when he handed her the strawberry milkshake, and Lily felt relief. It had clearly been good for them, for her, to have the Potters staying with them in London, no matter what it took to get them there.

"So, we did alright, Daddy?" Catherine said with the sweet smile she reserved for her father. Sirius kissed his daughter's hand indulgently.

"You were perfect, Kitty-Cat. Absolutely perfect."

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Ourania squealed with delight as she waved the letter in her brother's face. Of course, he had his own letter, but that was hardly anything.

She was going to Hogwarts.

Of course, she'd always known she was going to go to Hogwarts, but it was such a different thing, actually having the letter in her hands. Damon didn't even brush her away, but just smiled up at her as she waved the letter in his face.

She felt terrible for their parents, all their children away at school, but Ourania supposed that was the sort of thing that happened when people had their children so close together in age. And they'd probably come home on the holidays and things.

"It's too bad we weren't around for the tournament," she said with a slight pout when she tired of waving the letter in her brother's face. "I bet it would have been fabulous."

Damon shrugged, going over the shopping list, as if things like shopping lists were important for anything. Ourania thought they were boring, because she wanted to celebrate, and there was nothing celebratory in things that needed to be done. Their sisters were being boring as well, though, making lists and comparing booklists and all that nonsense.

Ourania told her brother that she wanted to do something fun, and at first he hesitated and she was worried he was going to be boring, but then he said, "Well, I've got some pocket money. D'you want to get ice cream?"

Not exactly what she had in mind, but she supposed she could only push her twin so far.

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Draco opened his letter coolly, feeling the Prefect badge fall into his hand, smiling at it with almost boredom.

Well, his father would be pleased, at any rate.

/-/

James sat down with Sirius as their children began opening the letters, and he said to his oldest friend, "I envy you sometimes, mate?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow and said, "Why's that, then? Apart from more children, I haven't got anything you couldn't easily have."

James's lips twitched at the idea of asking Lily for more children, but he said softly, "You get to be with them at Hogwarts. Sometimes I think I should offer myself up as a Transfiguration teacher and see if Dumbledore would finally retire."

"Lily would kill you if you tried while Harry was in school."

"I know."

"Would you ever seriously do it?"

"Dunno, mate. What was that?"

He'd caught a glimmer of something metallic in Harry's hand, and then he saw his son lift up a small badge. His jaw dropped.

His son was a Prefect.

/-/

Sirius was proud of Harry, but it was lessened by how proud he was of Caroline, and how happily she handed her letter to him, how beautiful her smile was as she threw her arms up to be praised. So much attention had been payed to Catherine lately, Sirius felt he had to lavish Caroline with perhaps even more praise than he should have, because she had been so starved of parental attention since Catherine's troubles began.

As soon as Caroline dashed upstairs to write a letter to her cousin, Sirius turned to find Catherine and Harry talking quietly in a corner over his badge.

"D'you reckon she'll be a prefect?" Sirius asked James nervously. "I'm not sure there would be a lot of good done for the school if those two were in charge."

"Did you know Harry was going to be selected?" James asked, winking.

"I knew Minerva was considering him and Neville strongly," Sirius admitted. "Hermione Granger was the obvious choice for the girl. But can you honestly imagine Pomona Sprout putting my offspring in power? I mean, Jason would be one thing, but Kitty?"

James smirked and shrugged and said, "Who would have thought McGonagall would have put any offspring of mine in power?"

"Well, he's half Lily," Sirius said with a fond smile. "But I look at Catherine and in spite of her outward appearance, she's all me. Which is to say she's all trouble, to herself and others. Oh, I don't know, James, but I look at her and I see she's becoming a woman and it terrifies me. You're lucky in that way. Having daughters, it's exhausting to think about how the other half of the species looks at them."

James was clearly fighting laughter, but he nodded. To him, of course, it could be funny, but for Sirius it wasn't funny at all, that his daughters would be subject to the predatory minds of males. He'd already seen more of it than he thought he could stomach.

Sirius took a glass of butterbeer from Cara and walked over to where Harry and Catherine were sitting together. Catherine was saying something and Harry was nodding, turning over the badge in his hand as she whispered.

"Hey," Sirius said, kissing his daughter's hair before sitting with them and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Congratulations again, Harry. You've earned that badge."

"Thank you, Uncle Sirius," Harry said solemnly. "I would have given it to Neville, but I guess our grades are fairly even."

Sirius smiled tightly. Neville's rather abysmal Potions performance was most of what kept Neville from qualifying, that and Severus's insistence that if Neville was selected, he'd file a formal complaint about how his lack of grace and self-control were a danger to the student body. Sirius thought Minerva might have ignored it, except Neville had rather the same issues in her class, and as those were the two most dangerous branches of magic to suffer clumsiness with, Severus did have a bit of a point.

"Well, I should tell you, although you've probably guessed, Hermione was selected as the female prefect," Sirius said, smiling as Catherine rested her head on his shoulder. "And Draco was selected for Slytherin, naturally. He'll be less pleased when he learns Miss Parkinson was selected as his counterpart."

"Not Daphne Greengrass?" Catherine said, perking up with interest.

Sirius hesitated. How did he say that Daphne was nicer, but significantly more simple of mind, in a way that wasn't inappropriate to say to his daughter?

"Daphne's an idiot, Kitty," Harry said, saving Sirius the indignity. Of course, he also brought Lily's wrath down on him for being so unchivalrous, and Sirius just winked at Catherine and drank his butterbeer happily.

/-/

Severus waited for a message from Narcissa, and when it came he nodded to himself and relaxed slightly for the first time in days, since he learned Catherine Black had found herself mixed up in a mess again. He had been following the case closely, and Narcissa had Lucius looking into it at the Ministry. It was supposed to be cut and dried, and it worked out just that way. Certainly it would have been distressing for her parents, but from all that had been reported to Narcissa, Catherine had been handling it all very well.

This suggested to Severus that the stress on her mind and emotional state done by Igor Karkaroff was repairing well. He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and considered how he would look her in the eye when she returned to Hogwarts, and how he would prepare Remus for the same task. She was only a child, and he had faced far more difficult deception and lies, but Remus would struggle to face her after what he had done on her behalf.

Still, Severus thought, finishing his drink with a grim smile, he managed to get a level of satisfaction from watching Karkaroff bleed out in the forest as Remus ripped out his throat. Between corrosion, transfiguration, and some complex charms, there wasn't much left to be found, and no way for it to be identified if it ever was. Remus had already complained of tasting the blood during his next full moon, of the complication of the craving, even with the Wolfsbane potion.

But both men agreed, some sacrifices were fully worth the cost.

 **A/N: So, the trial is over, Harry is a Prefect, and we know how Karkaroff met his end.**

 **Review Prompt: We're entering hormone territory, properly. Which Black child is going to have a date first?**

 **Q &A: Please ask questions!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	72. Final Sorting

**A/N: Yet another bonus earned! Go, go, go!**

 **-C**

Blaise settled into the compartment he and Draco had chosen, and he smiled to himself. Draco looked so pleased, with that stupid badge on his chest. But he'd seen what Draco hadn't, and his friend wouldn't be so pleased when he came back from the Prefects meeting. Blaise had seen Pansy Parkinson with an identical badge.

"Harry's a Prefect as well," Draco said lazily. "And Granger. Not terribly surprising on her part, anyway."

"And how is Catherine Black?" Blaise asked, stretching out on the three seats on one side of the compartment, laying down. "Recovering?"

"Seems to be," Draco said. "She's resilient. I've got to go to the meeting. I'll be back when I can."

"Of course," he said, smiling to himself.

When the compartment door closed, Astoria Greengrass, who had followed Brontes into the apartment, said, "Why didn't you tell him about Pansy?"

"It'll be so much more entertaining to see his face after the fact," Blaise said. "Brontes, have you seen anyone interesting nearby?"

"Not interesting as you'd term it," Brontes said softly. "My brother is with our cousin and some of her friends. Astoria's sister is up the train a little way with her friends. Crabbe and Goyle are across the corridor."

"No, you're right," he said with a sigh, sitting up. "Not especially interesting. I suppose we'll have to entertain ourselves while we wait for Draco's reaction to not being warned. Shall we say something about how we weren't aware, see how long we can savor it, or shall we lord it over him that we knew something he didn't?"

Astoria's pretty face shifted to amused disapproval as she said, "You're not being very magnanimous about this whole thing. Blaise. How would you feel if it were you?"

"Ah, but it's not me, my dear," he said, teasingly. "I get to watch Draco's sufferings knowing they'll never become my sufferings. No woman in her right mind would pull those kinds of stunts with someone whose mother is reported to be a serial murderer of husbands."

The look in Astoria's eyes held a question, but Blaise ignored it, as he always ignored such questions about his mother. The truth was, she'd been very unlucky in love, and every time he lost a step-father she was torturously unhappy. He'd never believed rumors that his mother had killed her husbands, but he appreciated the wide berth it gave him in society. He was wealthy and attractive and talented enough to attract muted attention, but crazy people like Pansy and Daphne weren't likely to approach.

"How about we play a game?" Brontes suggested softly. "I believe my chess set is readily available. I realize it's a two-person game, but…"

He shrugged.

"Sounds perfect to me," Blaise said, leaning back again. "You two play, I watch. I don't feel like thinking, but I do want to be entertained."

Blaise saw the annoyed look Astoria gave Brontes, but neither younger student argued, and Brontes got down the set without argument.

If only all things in life were so easy to accomplish.

/-/

Colin supposed Catherine looked well, as she told the story of the trial, and the crime she'd witnessed. The bruise she'd reportedly sustained had fully healed, and her smile was bright and her brown eyes sparkling just as he recalled from before the incident during the Tournament.

Perhaps the summer had healed her.

"I'm terribly bored," she said in a tone that was completely the way she always spoke. "Ryana, would you mind awfully if I put my feet up on you?"

Ginny frowned slightly, probably because of the treatment of Ryana, who was clearly eager to make up for what she'd done in June.

"N-no, that'd be fine," Ryana said quickly, and Catherine smiled, leaning back and putting her feet up on Ryana's lap, crossing her legs at the ankles as Luna passed her a licorice wand.

"Got one of those for me?" Colin asked, pulling out a book for the ride. He didn't pretend the girls wanted him there to entertain them. Reading was the best way.

/-/

Kevin flicked a balled up bit of parchment at Laura, who had joined him in the compartment in question. She smiled at him, perhaps only slightly annoyed, at his action.

"D'you want to share some Every Flavour Beans?" he asked as she put her book down, raising her eyebrows as she considered. "Well, sure," he said. "There's stuff in here I don't like, probably stuff you don't like, so I figure we can share the dislike around."

Laura laughed, but she agreed, so he broke out the box and she sat forward, rubbing her eyes.

"Do you suppose it'll be harder this year?" she asked.

"It's bound to be less interesting," he said with a shrug. "I mean, no Triwizard Tournament. Sure, there will be Quidditch, but I can't imagine anything half as exciting happening without the Tournament around."

"Some of the older students said there was a huge prank war a few years back," Laura said, taking a bean and holding it up to the light to see how translucent yellow the bean was. "Sounds like Hogwarts has a way of manufacturing ways to keep things interesting. I'm not especially worried about it."

Kevin nodded, although he wasn't sure he completely agreed with her.

The truth was, he'd heard rumors about the same sorts of things, and they sounded a bit more unnerving than they did amusing. From what he'd seen about the trouble some of the older students could get themselves into, Kevin didn't think he wanted a year where that sort of thing reigned supreme.

"Hmm," she said as she chewed on the bean. "Not bad. Lemon meringue."

That didn't sound bad, so Kevin grabbed one from the box, turning it over and deciding it looked decent. He popped it into his mouth, like tearing off a plaster, and bit into it.

He almost spat it out, but instead he swallowed quickly.

"No?" she asked, frowning with slight concern.

"Liver," he said, frowning. "I was hoping it was grape or blackcurrant or something."

Kevin grabbed another, holding it up, finding that it was reasonably translucent pink. He popped it into his mouth and was not disappointed to taste grapefruit, which was strong enough to mask most of the liver taste. Laura grabbed another bean, rolling it in her fingers thoughtfully, examining the size and shape of the speckles on it before deciding that it would be alright.

"Oh, there's one for me," she said with a horrified expression. "Sour milk. Quick, hand me another."

/-/

Rabastan walked out of his study into the empty house and frowned at the quietness of it. Aeson had always been the loudest, most rambunctious child, and now he was gone, there was hardly a sound to be heard before the ticking of a clock in the upstairs corridor. He thought about what he would do with the extra time and quiet, all of the things he could accomplish with the extra silence in the house.

But then a thought crossed his mind that he and his wife were alone, properly alone, for the first time in over a decade. He smiled to himself and walked to her sitting room on the second floor. She was sitting on the balcony, sketching the back garden with a lazy hand, a loose grip on the charcoal.

"Delia," he said softly. She set down the charcoal in its box to keep from smearing on her work, and she looked up at him with expectation and he crossed to her, taking the sketch from her lap and setting it on a side table. "I like the way you're wearing your hair today."

She smirked and said, "Darling, I wear my hair like this nearly every day."

"And I like it nearly every day," he said, tracing a finger up her neck lazily. "It's just not the sort of thing one says in front of one's children."

"I see no children now," she said, holding a hand out to him.

Rabastan took her hand, older than the hand of the young woman he'd fallen in love with during the last months of the war, and yet still as soft and sweet. He kissed it for a brief moment before using it to help her to her feet so that he could lead her to their bed. For the first time in years, he felt like a young man again, and he was going to ride this feeling as long as he could.

/-/

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed as the train crossed into a wilderness-like territory. Most of the way to the school now. Seamus's bad jokes were only beginning for the year, but he was pleased to hear them for the moment. Eventually, Seamus would begin to wear on him, but for now he was enjoying things.

"Too bad we're already out of chocolate," Seamus said sadly. "I suppose there will be pudding at the feast."

/-/

Anthony got off the train with his friends, a gleaming Prefects badge on his chest. He gestured to a couple of lost-looking first years toward Hagrid, who was calling for other first years to follow him. Then Anthony followed Terry, Mandy, and Padma into a carriage, which took off directly.

"Congratulations," Terry said, grinning, "both of you. Is your sister the Gryffindor Prefect, Padma?"

He was teasing. They already knew Hermione Granger had got the badge. Anthony wouldn't be surprised if Granger got the Head Girl badge in a couple of years, truthfully, although he hoped he'd be getting Head Boy.

"Just mind your own business, Terry," Padma said coolly.

/-/

Pansy smiled at Daphne and folded her hands primly as she waited for the Sorting. She rather liked being a Prefect, being responsible for others, having some measure of power.

"Abercrombie, Euan."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bagman, Tabatha."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Barbary, Anastasia."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Pansy clapped with the rest of her table, watching the pretty, dark-haired girl make her way over to the table, sitting at the space left for them near Draco, Blaise, and Brontes.

"Black, Caroline."

Professor Black sat up a bit straighter, and Pansy narrowed her eyes at the girl who moved forward. Caroline did not look much like her sister, but more like her brother Jason, and her father. She had raven black hair that flowed and waved around her shoulders, and a face with lazy, arrogant, aristocratic beauty. This was Slytherin's last chance to get a Black, although Pansy didn't think it terribly likely as the Hat lowered onto the girl's head. There was a small pause as the Hat considered.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Caroline Black rose with a satisfied smile and made her way over to the cheering Gryffindor table as her father clapped. She sat beside Euan Abercombie and said something to Harry Potter, who was sitting nearby. Pansy couldn't see his reaction from her seat, and the applause was dying down.

"Bones, Dorine."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Coote, Ritchie."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Jorkins, Jasper."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Lestrange, Aeson."

Pansy perked up at the familiar name glancing at Adrasteia and Brontes as their brother walked to the front. He had his sister's arrogance, but a kind of proud ferocity in his gaze that was very unlike either sibling. Considering him and wondering if he might be put elsewhere, Pansy waited with the rest of the school for his fate. At long last, it was announced.

"SLYTHERIN!"

His siblings were cheering and clapping with the rest of the Slytherins, as Aeson walked lazily to join Anastasia Barbary, near his brother. He shook his brother's hand and Pansy saw him look defiantly across the Hall at Caroline Black, who was watching him with a kind of proud smirk. Pansy supposed there was a story there, between the cousins, and she hoped whatever it was between them wouldn't cause her undue trouble in her new role as Prefect.

"Prewett, Damon."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Damon Prewett sat across from Caroline Black who said something to him, and he smiled at her. Pansy tapped her finger on the table, already bored with having to appear perfectly behaved.

/-/

Sandra Rosier watched the new Sorting with very little interest. In her second year, she did not find all of this nearly as interesting as she had the year before.

"Prewett, Ourania."

A ginger-haired girl, clearly the twin of the boy just Sorted, went up to be Sorted.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The girl was bouncy as she went to join her brother, sitting with Caroline Black and immediately talking rapidly together with her, grinning. Sandra wondered whether this Black would be as eventful and accident prone as her sister.

"Quirrell, Delora."

A plain-looking, brown-haired girl went forward, sitting quietly on the stool and waiting for her fate as the Hat was lowered onto her head. Sandra smiled mildly and clapped as the Hat cried, "SLYTHERIN!"

The girl came to sit with the Lestrange boy and Barbary girl, nodding to each of them without further interaction.

"Robins, Demelza."

A very pretty, dark-haired girl went up to the stool, sitting. The Hat was placed on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

/-/

Harry smiled to himself as Caroline and Ourania whispered among themselves, too quiet for him to hear, but not discrete enough to escape the notice of Uncle Sirius, who was watching his youngest daughter with narrowed eyes. Not disapproval, exactly, but Caroline was definitely going to be even more trouble than her sister was.

"Savage, Warren."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Shacklebolt, Jessica."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped as the dark girl joined their table, sitting on the other side of Ourania smiling at Demelza Robins, who seemed to have been someone who sat with her on the train. It was amazing to Harry, how quickly some friendships developed.

"Summerbee, Linos."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Sweeting, Caden."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Vablatsky, Ezra."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Warbeck, Cherise."

Harry heard a girl nearby whisper that this was supposedly the niece of the horribly famous singer, Celestina Warbeck. She was pretty enough, and had enough arrogance for it to be true.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Harry clapped, wishing it would be over. His stomach was beginning to growl.

/-/

Ritchie watched his fellow Gryffindors toward the end of the Sorting, taking stock of them. Euan, he'd met on the train, but Damon had been somewhere else. He and his twin seemed nice, although Ourania was chattering with Caroline Black instead of listening.

"Whitehorn, Anabella."

"RAVENCLAW!"

As much as he tried not to notice it, Caroline was almost unnaturally pretty. There'd been a girl like that on his street growing up, and she had been insufferable, but all the boys followed her around anyway.

"Wimple, Virginia."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Wood, Persephone."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Persephone had chestnut brown hair and marble brown eyes, sitting down with the other Gryffindor first years, smiling at the others and leaning forward. As they waited for the final student to be Sorted.

/-/

Harry squeezed his fingers together anxiously as Zeller, Rose was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and he laughed as the food appeared and Ritchie Coote looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin from fear.

"Excellent," Caroline said happily. "Damon, pass me the potatoes."

"Yes, Caroline," he said, as though cow-towed, and Harry held his lips in a twitch as Hermione blinked with almost discomfort at the interaction. Caroline was twice as forceful as her sister, as Harry well knew, and Damon was probably used to yielding to his rambunctious, forceful twin.

He passed the potatoes without any further issue.

"Where are you from, Demelza?" Caroline asked, like a queen holding court.

"Erm, Coventry," she said, tucking a bit of dark hair behind her ear. "You?"

"London, I suppose," Caroline said with an air of authority that didn't have any of the thinking her words had. "Damon, the chicken."

"Yes, Caroline."

Harry looked away from Hermione to keep from laughing at the horrified look on her face as Damon continued to act happily like Caroline's personal servant. What Hermione didn't know was the way Caroline hated being called by her full name, and that she hadn't snapped at Damon, or reminded him to call her by her shortened name, was a sign of a kind of understanding between them.

"Persephone," Harry said, trying to draw the conversation to something more inclusive. "I noticed your surname was Wood. Are you related to Oliver Wood?"

"Yes, he's my cousin," the girl said, smiling at him.

"What's he up to these days?"

"He's playing with Puddlemere United as a reserve," she said, helping herself to some chicken. "He expects to make the main team soon. Their Keeper is nearing retirement age."

Harry nodded, glad that Oliver was getting to live his dream. Perhaps he'd even play for England, one day.

/-/

Tabatha leaned over the Hufflepuff table to the pale, pretty girl, Rose Zeller, who kept glancing over at the Gryffindor table.

"Made friends on the train?" she asked sympathetically.

"Yeah," Rose said, tucking a strand of pale hair behind her tiny ear. She really did have small ears for the size of the rest of her, with hardly any lobe. "Damon, Ourania, Caro. And they're all in Gryffindor and I'm here."

"Hufflepuff's great, though," Jasper Jorkins said eagerly, clearly trying to make new friends, which was a character trait Tabatha had always found disgusting. Who would want to be friends with someone who wasn't desperate to be friends with them?

"I'm sure," Rose said nervously, and a very pretty girl with long, dark brown hair leaned down the table and smiled.

"If you made friends with Caro," the girl said, "proper friends, then I can assure you a silly little thing like being in different Houses will be nothing. All of my closest friends are in other houses." She paused. "Well, nearly all."

The girl turned back to her soup as Rose thanked her, and Jasper leaned across the table, hissing, "That's Professor Black's daughter, Catherine Black. I've seen her picture in the papers. She was a witness at a murder trial this summer."

Tabatha glanced at Catherine Black, who certainly looked glamorous and self-assured enough to be important. Perhaps being friends with Rose would prove interesting.

After all, they were certainly friends, now.

 **A/N: So, Prefect duties have begun, Caro's a Gryffindor, and she and Aeson are preparing themselves for seven years of painful competitiveness.**

 **Review Prompt: Who's getting the first detention?**

 **Q &A: Ask questions, please!**

 **-C**


	73. Rivalry

**A/N: Still working through your earned bonuses! This is incredible, guys. You're making me work on churning out the bonus chapters instead of giving attention to my non-HP stories. :D**

 **-C**

Harry started his fifth year with a session of History of Magic, and Uncle Sirius winked and congratulated Hermione on her badge. She blushed and thanked him, and Harry settled in for their lessons, pulling out fresh parchment for the first notes of the year. Uncle Sirius welcomed them all back, and Harry's mind began to drift, which it so rarely did in History of Magic.

He made the mistake of looking up at breakfast, toward the Ravenclaw table, with the intention of finding Catherine so he could ask her what her schedule looked like. Eventually he did find her, on her way down to Herbology with Ryana and Ginny and Colin. But while he'd been searching her out during breakfast, he accidently caught the gaze of Cho Chang.

Over the summer, he'd rarely thought of her. He'd been so preoccupied with Catherine's health, with the trial, with hiding from Caroline and her propensity for putting itching powder down his trousers if she caught him dozing about the house. He'd not had much time or mental energy left over for devoting to thinking about Cho Chang and his intense interest in her.

Looking at her at breakfast brought it all back, though, and he found himself slightly embarrassed as she smiled and waved at him. Was she still dating Cedric Diggory? He wasn't sure, and Cedric was a Triwizard Champion, after all. What did Harry have?

Well, apart from loads of gold and some measure of fame because of the trial he and Catherine had to be at. Could he make a play on that?

Even in class, as he thought of trying to talk to Cho, his hands got sweaty and his throat seemed to constrict. How was he even supposed to talk to her after the horror of asking her to the Ball and being turned down so brutally? No, he had to think of some way to get her to talk to him, some way to coax someone to play the go-between. Neville or Ron would be too obvious, and he had a feeling his favors from Hermione were on a bit of a strain still after the Great Prank War. Ginny might be a good idea, but when he'd suggested that to Neville, he'd said unequivocally that it was a terrible plan.

Catherine? Would Catherine do it? She knew him better than anyone else. She had an in with the Ravenclaw House, and he trusted her judgment well above that of Rhea or Luna in the matter. On the other hand, if he went to her she'd be sure to tease him, and the last thing he wanted was to get her entangled in his love life. She'd never let him forget it, and with their parents being friends, that was likely to last the whole of their lives.

Uncle Sirius asked if anyone remembered when the International Statute of Secrecy was founded, and while Harry was trying to reinstate himself in the flow of the class Hermione raised her hand and gave the answer right away. Uncle Sirius gave her a few points for Gryffindor, and went back into the flow of the class as though they hadn't paused for anything.

Harry supposed he could always ask Neville what he thought about the plan that wasn't much of a plan. Neville would probably say to go with Catherine. He always seemed to think Catherine was the answer, and Harry hated to admit that he was usually right. And really, was there another option, apart from asking her out himself?

No. Not an option.

First he had to figure if Cho was single and available, otherwise he'd be going through everything for naught, and Catherine really would give him extensive grief. Rhea could probably answer that question. She was especially perceptive and happened to be able to be discrete, which was more than could be said for most people he knew. He resolved to ask her at lunch, if he could find a way to get her alone. He was absolutely not going to ask in front of her friends.

"Now, there's a few more details we'll talk about next week," Uncle Sirius said. "It's too bad we're all going to see each other only once a week this year, but I'm sure we'll be able to make it work. You're pretty much ready for your exams this year, so we'll be doing more intensive application than learning new material."

/-/

Catherine walked to where her friends were waiting for her at lunchtime and smiled to see Harry trying to carry out some kind of discrete conversation with Rhea. Several possibilities ran through her mind, some of them having to do with him planning something like a surprise for her or someone else, some of them having to do with his perhaps having a crush on Rhea. She didn't really think Rhea was his type, but then, he'd had a crush on Cho Chang the year before and she was a milksop, so Catherine wasn't really sure what his type was.

"What's all this, then?" she asked, teasing, sitting very close to him, the way he was sitting very close to Rhea, and lowering her voice to a whisper to mock their behavior.

"Never mind," he said, irritated. "I've got to go."

"Go where?" she asked, sitting back as he stood. "It's lunch and you've certainly not had time to eat."

He said nothing, frowning at her as she smiled back. As soon as he was gone, she asked Rhea what he was up to. Rhea blushed.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said, and Catherine hummed, watching Harry with curiosity. Classes had only just begun, and already things were entertaining. A good distraction, she thought, from the stares and whispers she'd been spared from by not leaving the house most of the summer.

Being interesting was so dreary.

/-/

Ginny hadn't heard much of Rhea's conversation with Harry, but she knew he was trying to get information on whether someone was single, and she had a feeling it was about Cho Chang.

Well, she supposed there were worse things. He became less attractive to her all the time.

/-/

On the way to his father's class, Jason saw Harry and Catherine walking together, bickering about something. He knew that Harry had Uncle Remus's class and Catherine was due in Arithmancy, but they weren't really moving toward either class, but walking together, focused entirely on their conversation.

"I can't believe you're using my friends as pawns in your love life and you expect me to go along with it," she said, and Jason sighed, wishing he could un-hear his sister's shouted words. He really didn't want to know about either of their love lives.

"Rhea has a mind of her own, Kitty," Harry said darkly. "And you could try to be a little more helpful."

Jason frowned, pausing outside his father's classroom, which was locked. He really wished he could go inside. Catherine laughed.

"Why you'd want a silly thing like her anyway is mindboggling," Catherine said. "She's not worth my effort on your behalf, Harry, and I can't say she's much worth your effort, either."

Their father stepped into the corridor just in time to see Harry draw his wand, Catherine's coming out quickly in defense, a grim smile on her face. Jason ducked into the classroom to avoid the situation, but he heard his father, very disappointed, demand they put their wands away. Points would be lost, Jason thought mildly as he took his seat, and maybe they'd get detention as well.

/-/

Sirius scheduled the first of two detentions to be served the very first weekend. Catherine told him she had assignments she needed to work on, but he was unrelenting.

"You should have thought of that," he told his daughter coolly, "before you two drew wands on each other in the middle of a crowded corridor."

Neither argued after that point, but Sirius was frankly very disappointed to have to discipline them again, especially so soon into the year when Harry had only just been made a Prefect.

Catherine and Harry showed up at his office on time, looking mildly contrite, which was perhaps as much as Sirius could expect of them.

"Sit down," he said, gesturing for them to be seated.

The point of detention at Hogwarts was not merely to have students answer for their actions, but to have them do this in a way that is useful and productive for the whole of the school. So early in the year, it was difficult to figure out things for them to do, but Sirius and Remus had devised some things between them. Severus, it would seem, had an explosion with the first years he was dealing with and had opted not to be a part of this particular disciplinary venture.

When Harry and Catherine sat, they both stared at the desk, and Sirius looked down at them, trying to remind himself that this was supposed to be good for them. He didn't figure any of his own detention sessions did him much good, but Harry and Catherine were not their parents.

"I'm tired of this," Sirius said softly. "You're not children anymore. Those wands aren't toys. I think you're both well aware that people can do many dangerous things with them, on purpose or on accident, and you are here to learn how to use them responsibly, not to use them as a means for solving your petty personal problems."

Catherine's jaw tightened, but she said nothing and she didn't look up at him.

"Harry, you're a Prefect now. You're expected to be an example to the other students. If you have another infraction, your badge will be in jeopardy, and that would be a shame. You have the potential to be a very good Prefect, and I expect you to live up to that." He glanced at his daughter. "Kitty, you're going to have to learn to treat people a little better if you expect them to treat you well."

This was what it took for his daughter to look up at him, astonished. It hurt, the betrayal in her eyes, and the reminder that in some ways she was still very much a child was not missed, but his jaw tightened, and he told himself that she needed to hear this. Perhaps he had spoiled her for too long, let her have her own way far too much of the time. Perhaps this was partially his fault.

"You'll serve another detention when Professor Lupin requires it of you," he said, stiffly, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "For now, I'm going to have you copying lecture notes."

"Lecture notes?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"I keep a set of lecture notes for each session," Sirius explained, "that I can give to students who miss the session for issues of illness. Unfortunately, as Kitty can attest to, my hand-writing is not the clearest. You're going to make additional copies so students may select the handwriting they find simplest to read."

Catherine made a small whimpering noise, but he set the first set of notes between them and raised his eyebrows expectantly for them to begin work, knowing that having to work off the same set at once would force them to sort out their issues.

/-/

Caroline tapped her foot on the floor, frowning, as Professor Snape showed them how many jars he wanted them to hand-clean. She was fuming, and he probably knew it, but Caroline really didn't care.

Because it was Aeson's fault. What was she supposed to do, just let him pull her hair? So maybe she shouldn't have punched him, but she was provoked, and Professor Snape didn't even take that into account. She'd thought of appealing to her father, but Jason advised her not to. Supposedly, their father was busy disciplining Catherine and Harry. Caroline would have paid good money to see that, but she was stuck here, cleaning slime and potion out of jars with a rag and her hands.

It did help that Aeson looked slightly queasy at the sight of some of the jars, which appeared to have some kind of blood on them. But it probably wasn't human blood, so Caroline didn't really have a problem with it.

"When are we done?" she asked as Professor Snape told them to begin.

He looked at her with those unreadable black eyes and he said, in a low and unimpressed voice, "When I tell you that you are done. Now begin, Miss Black."

Fair enough.

/-/

When the detention session came to an end, the pair were respectful, muted, and a bit eerie. Sirius dismissed them, but Catherine lingered. He wanted to call her to him and kiss her forehead, but he figured that so immediately after discipline, this would be confusing. Instead, he watched her as she hesitated, taking unnecessarily long straightening papers before looking up at him.

"Daddy," she said, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry."

Well, that certainly wasn't what he expected. Sirius still said nothing as she faced him with a bit more confidence.

"You're right," she said, a bit coolly. "I was being petty and stupid. I shouldn't tease Harry, even if he does fancy one of the stupidest girls in Hogwarts."

Sirius's lips twitched. Cho Chang was far from stupid, he knew. She could be rash, jump to conclusions without making a full line of inquiry, and she could be terribly proud and stubborn. But Sirius supposed all those things were true of Catherine, too, on some level.

"I didn't draw my wand first," she said softly.

"I know."

"But I…I don't want Harry to have to do the second detention alone. I overheard Uncle Remus saying he was going to have us feed grindylows, and the process didn't sound very pleasant."

"It isn't."

Catherine nodded as though that was that, and she glided out of the room without another word.

Sirius just laughed.

/-/

While they waited for Caroline to return from detention, Ourania and Damon sat in the common room, attempting to do their reading.

"Oh, no," Ourania heard a voice say.

She looked up to see Dennis Creevey standing with Jason Black, looking at the notice board.

"What?" Jason asked, looking for something particular on the board.

"They're having tryouts for the Dueling Club this year. I'll never make it, Jason. I'm doomed. Can you ask your dad if he can make an exception?"

Jason's lips twitched and he said, "He doesn't run it alone, you know, and I doubt Professor Snape approves of exceptions."

"Dueling Club?" Ourania whispered. "That sounds like fun. I wonder if Caro would teach me some stuff so we could pass the trials."

Damon groaned.

/-/

Severus watched the cousins with interest as they worked. Although neither would be in his class until the end of the week, he could deduce that neither Aeson nor Caroline would have significant aptitude for Potions. They both had remarkably quick reflexes, but their capacity for fine, detailed work left much to be desired. He doubted either would be causing any explosions, but Severus's hopes that all the Black children would follow Catherine's marvelous example were dashed.

Well, Caroline and Aeson ought to be good at dueling, anyway. They certainly had the reflexes and competitive aggression, and if Caroline took after her father as much as Severus suspected, she would also be incredibly creative and just a touch ruthless.

A good combination, Severus thought.

"Very well," Severus said, seeing that they had just enough time for Caroline to make it back to Gryffindor Tower before curfew. "Your detention is over. See you do not earn another."

He returned a blank look for Caroline's almost challenging, amused expression as she shook out her tired hands. Aeson actually snorted softly, and Severus watched the pair go, already bickering in whispers as they left the room.

Severus sighed when he was alone, picking up one of the jars and holding it up to the dim candlelight.

Well, it wouldn't take him long to clean them properly. He might have made them stay and clean them until they were spotless, but Severus got the sense the pair had given all the ability they had in this area. With a couple waves of his wand, the jars were perfect, ready for use once more.

/-/

James sighed, finding Lily staring at her cup of tea, frowning at the billows of steam.

"Sirius just called," he said, forcing a smile. She didn't look up at him. "Kitty and Harry have just served their first detention of the year." No response. "Apparently Caro had detention, too. He says she and her cousin are worse than Harry and Kitty, if such a thing could be."

Lily looked up and said, "What were we doing at their age?"

James shrugged and said, "Dunno. I was playing Quidditch. You were a Prefect, brilliant, perfect. I reckon we were fighting like cats and dogs."

She hummed, took a sip of her tea, and said, "That's what worries me."

"How do you mean?"

"Kitty and Harry fight like cats and dogs."

Realizing what she was getting at, James laughed. "So do Caro and Aeson. So what?"

"Caro and Aeson are cousins," Lily said, "and the way they fight is different. Kitty's beautiful, James, you know that. I wouldn't mind if they got together, but can you imagine how Sirius would feel?"

James shrugged. Sirius would be furious, but James didn't see it ever happening, so he couldn't really say too much about it. The impossible didn't merit attention. Perhaps Lily was thinking prematurely of grandchildren. James didn't intend to be a grandfather for some years yet. He still wasn't sure he had the hang of being a father.

"Why don't we just go to bed," he suggested gently, "and let things happen as they will?"

She hesitated until he took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist gently. She smiled at him, and let him lead her to bed, tea forgotten.

 **A/N: So, Harry is curious about Cho again, fights and detentions abound, and Lily has her concerns.**

 **Review Prompt: Who reckons Cho and Cedric split? Anyone think they're still together?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: When are Harry and Kitty getting together? (Asma20)**

 **A: That would be telling! I will definitely say it's soon-ish, and there will be another big shock in their lives before Harry fully comes to his senses.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	74. Tribulations

**A/N: So, this is weekly bonus TWELVE and there's still more to be given! Why? Y'all keep reviewing, and I love it!**

 **Also, apologies about Cho. I think you'll enjoy how I wrap up her storyline.**

 **-C**

Hufflepuff Quidditch trials took place on a warm, clear October day, which was strange enough in Scotland to make Kevin Whitby very nervous. Laura was fine as they walked down to the trials, not nervous at all until they saw the massive number of Hufflepuff students trying out for the team.

"I don't even think all these people are Hufflepuff," she said, astonished. "Why…?"

She knew why, so Kevin said nothing. People were very interested in trying out for the Hufflepuff team not for Quidditch reasons, but because Cedric Diggory was the Captain and he just won the Triwizard Tournament.

Diggory looked over the crowd with mild interest, scanning their faces, perhaps to take stock of the mass of people as a number, or to look for people he recognized, or maybe even to find a particular expression he did or didn't like. Kevin tried to look more confident than he felt, but his stomach was turning somersaults. Laura was trying for Chaser – a position with three players. Kevin was trying for Keeper, where he would be the only one.

They checked in with Cadwaller, a returning Chaser who was the only person with a guaranteed spot, from what Kevin could see. They signed in for the different positions they were trying for, and Kevin gripped his Cleansweep with anxiety.

"We'll do fine," Laura said bracingly. "We'll do great."

Kevin nodded, and they waited their turns, as Diggory gave instruction to a group of students to fly a lap in formation, taking notes on a clipboard of their progress from the moment the kicked off to the moment they landed at the end. He instructed the next group, and Kevin realized this was a way of thinning the herd. With this many students trying, surely there would be plenty who weren't even suitable flyers.

Kevin and Laura were in the same formation, and he was pleased the air was a bit thin, because it helped him stay exactly on the course he wanted with more ease, and helped him maneuver more smoothly. Of course, it would aid anyone else who knew what they were doing, but the ease helped him feel a bit more at ease than he'd been waiting on the grass of the pitch.

When they landed, they had to wait for one last group before Diggory stood before them and read out the list of names who would be staying to continue the trials. Kevin and Laura were pleased to hear their names read out, and they watched many other students leave, disappointed or less so, depending on their reasons for showing up in the first place.

"Right, Chasers first," he said. "Cadwaller, take them up and drill them."

Laura went away with half a dozen other people trying to make the slot of Chaser, and was given instructions by Cadwaller, who looked quite pleased with himself. Diggory watched their faces as they took in the instructions, made a couple of notes, and then made a steady stream of notes as the passing and position drills began. Cadwaller acted as a surrogate Keeper as each of them took shots.

Diggory blew his whistle and called out a couple of names, sending those two away. He then split the remaining five into groups of two and three, putting Cadwaller with the group of two. Then he called forward four people, the people trying for Keeper.

"Whitby, far posts. Block everything," he said. Kevin took off before hearing the name of the person being put at the near posts. The Chasers being trialed scrimmaged, and Kevin had to block everything that came near his posts.

Something seemed to have gotten under his skin, because Kevin felt that he was having the day of his life. He blocked everything that came his way, including three shots from Cadwaller, who was growing frustrated when Kevin was called down. Laura managed to get two shots in on the other guy, and the last two Keepers were put up. A girl Kevin didn't know was at the far posts, and she did wonderfully, with Zacharias Smith scoring once on the near posts, and Laura hitting the post, but not getting it in.

Kevin was put back in on the near posts this time, the two blokes sent away, and the Beater candidates were brought out and given bats. Things were getting serious.

/-/

Blaise rolled his eyes as Draco told Aeson Lestrange about the Dueling Club, making it sound like some kind of fabulous thing. Granted, Aeson seemed rather determined to see it that way already, asking many and probing questions.

"Caro's going to do it," Aeson said with a flash of fierceness in his eyes. "I know she is. I have to do it, too. I have to beat her."

"Merlin's pants," Blaise snorted, glad Aeson was too busy chattering about what he wanted to learn to hear Blaise.

"What's eating you?" Astoria asked, crossing her legs primly. Blaise raised his eyebrows.

He nodded back toward Aeson and Draco and said, "If we thought Catherine Black and Harry Potter were bad, wait 'til you get a load of how competitive Aeson is with Caroline Black."

"Brontes told me," she said, smirking. "He says it's explosive. Sometimes literally."

Blaise nodded and frowned slightly before he said, "You don't have a thing for Brontes, do you?"

Astoria just gave him a pitying, annoyed look before gliding out of the common room, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder regally. Blaise laughed.

/-/

They left with the assurance that the final squad list would be posted in the common room before dinner, and Kevin felt a bit sick. Laura coaxed him to go get lunch, and he slowly walked with her, listening to people as they passed. He was surprised to see Cedric Diggory rush past to catch one of the spectators, and then Kevin saw it was Catherine Black. Laura gasped softly beside him, so she'd seen it to.

Diggory walked beside Catherine, who was with a blushing Ryana Cotton. Catherine's face was cold and closed as he spoke to her, and then she said, perhaps louder than she needed to, "You disgust me, Cedric. Don't you still have a girlfriend?" He flushed and made to say something, but she waved a hand at him and said, "Don't bother. It wouldn't matter either way. Not interested."

Laura gave Kevin an amused look and whispered, "He's a bit smitten. I think he broke up with Cho Chang over the summer. Rumor is, when he heard she'd been assaulted trying to save somebody, he dumped Chang and resolved to ask Catherine out again."

Kevin shook his head. Beautiful, yes, but mental.

/-/

As Cara did not have children around the house, Lily, Dorcas, and Narcissa made it their goal to keep her occupied with regular visits to friends for tea, lunch, or dinner. Dorcas had a day off work in October, and insisted Cara come around for lunch.

"I've spoken to Sirius," Cara told her with a smile as they put sandwiches out. "We're doing Christmas at the manor again this year, guests and everything. Would you want to bring your family out? He tells me Caro and your twins are quite close."

"I'll talk to Fabian," Dorcas said with a grin, "but that sounds absolutely lovely."

/-/

The only vacancy in the Gryffindor team was that of Oliver Wood, which hadn't been filled the year before because of the Triwizard Tournament. Apparently, they'd offered the position to Ginny Weasley, but she'd turned it down and opted to stay on as a reserve for Chaser and Seeker instead.

Dean always thought of himself as more of a Chaser, so he didn't bother trying out for a position he knew he wouldn't perform well in. Instead, he was going with Seamus and Lavender to support Ron as he tried for the position. He sat down in the stands and raised his eyebrows as he saw Catherine Black leading her posse into the stands, looking rather bored as she selected a place. Her brother paused on his way over to his own friends and said, "I wasn't aware it was customary for people to watch the Quidditch trials of another House, Kitty."

It was so rare to hear Jason Black speak loud enough for other people to hear him that Dean continued to listen as she smirked and said, "Relax, I'm not spying. I watched the Hufflepuff trials as well. They were mostly pathetic. No, I'm here to support Ginny as she tries to annihilate all the people trying for the spot."

Jason leaned in to say something and Catherine frowned nodding. Jason said something else, and Catherine narrowed her eyes at him and said, "If I needed help, Jason, I'd ask for it. Don't you dare tell Daddy. He'll overreact."

Holding up his hands in defeat, Jason walked away from his sister, and shook his head, bewildered. He sat down between Cora Prewett and Dennis Creevey, who were gossiping extensively about something that happened the day before in class.

"Oh, here we go," Seamus said excitedly as Ron came out on the pitch to take his turn. Dean sat up a bit straighter as Ron mounted his broom, kicking off and going to the posts Angelina directed him to.

"What does he have to do for this?" Lavender asked squeezing her hands together. "Like, does he have to fly about a bit, or is he just supposed to toss the ball?"

Dean's nostrils flared with amusement as Seamus sighed and said, "They really don't need the Keepers to fly around very much, Lavender. His main goal isn't passing, it's blocking the Quaffle from making it into any of the posts. See, they're going to come at him and try to score, and he's got to figure which one they're trying to put it in and stop them. It's very simple."

"Does he have to stay inside those lines?"

"No," Dean said softly, "but they can't take it from him if he's holding the Quaffle within those lines. He gets that much space to get it to one of his teammates. That's not a problem during trials, though."

She continued to ask ridiculous questions and Seamus actually pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to find the patience to answer them all. Dean started tuning her out quickly, letting her shrill, annoying words roll over his consciousness as the girls took to the air to try their luck against him. Angelina stayed on the ground, of course, to keep her eyes on the action and from an angle that allowed her to better consider the details of the action.

"He's doing pretty well," Seamus said after a while.

"Not terrible," Dean said softly. But he didn't say what was really on his mind. Vicky Frobisher had been better.

/-/

Neville frowned at Harry, who was looking out a window, not really celebrating Ron's acceptance into the team.

"What did Angelina actually say?" Neville asked softly.

"She wanted Vicky Frobisher," Harry muttered, "but Vicky wasn't committed if it was going to interfere with Charms Club. That girl's got her fingers in everything, you know."

Neville nodded, glancing over at Ron, who was so happy, having butterbeers with his siblings. With several moments' hesitation, Neville said, "Harry, Ryana told Ginny something, something Ginny told Colin, who told Dennis, who told his whole set. And Jason told me."

"What was actually said?" Harry asked, frowning but clearly amused with the chain of information.

"Erm, apparently when Ryana and Kitty went to watch the Hufflepuff trials, Cedric tried to ask Kitty out again."

"What?" Harry said, his hands balling into fists.

"Yeah, I figure this means he's not dating Cho Chang anymore," Neville said, encouragingly.

"What?" Harry asked, frowning. "Never mind," he said before Neville could repeat himself. "What did she say?"

"How d'you mean?"

"Kitty. Is she going on a date with him?"

"Oh, no," Neville said with a shrug. "She turned him down cold flat. You know Kitty."

Harry hummed, but he looked very disconcerted.

/-/

Catherine lounged in the common room as Cedric put up the post, and several students rushed to the list of new Hufflepuff Quidditch players, and Laura Madley squealed happily, hugging Kevin Whitby.

"Well, that's good, then," Catherine muttered to Ryana, who was also watching the scene with interest. "Whitby was easily the best Keeper on offer, and I was rather impressed with the Madley girl."

"Oh, no," Ryana murmured.

Before Catherine could ask what was wrong, she saw it. A very smug-looking Zacharias Smith was coming over to them. He sat down on their sofa, squeezing Catherine over with his presence to make room for himself. She frowned at him.

In some ways, she had no problems with Zacharias. It was actually refreshing to have him around at times, as he had given no indications he wanted to date her, or even just snog her in a broom cupboard. She supposed he was probably too in love with himself to notice girls in a sexual way.

"I take it you made the list," she said, wrinkling her nose as he put an arm around her shoulders. "You know Laura Madley flew circles around you."

"Don't care," he said, smirking. "I got it. By the way, Diggory was asking me about you."

Catherine groaned, stood, and said she wanted to lay down, that she'd be up for dinner. Her eyes went to the common room entrance to see Diggory watching her and she frowned and walked away into the staircase for the girls' dormitories with a shiver.

/-/

Rhea combed out her hair and looked at Luna's reflection in the mirror. Luna looked as puzzled as Rhea could ever recall having seen her, and she finally asked what was wrong.

"Catherine," Luna said. "No, I know she's much better than in June, but there's something bothering her."

If there was, Rhea had noticed no signs of it, but she supposed Luna was the more perceptive of them. After hesitating, she asked Luna what she thought was wrong, but Luna said she wasn't prepared to say.

Of course, they both knew about the issue she'd had with her brother at the Quidditch pitch, about how he'd mentioned Cedric Diggory asking her out again, but Catherine had snapped at him, which wasn't like her.

Maybe there was something to the thought that something was bothering her, but Rhea couldn't see why. Cedric being single meant Cho was single, which meant Harry could be with the girl he fancied. Surely that would make everyone happy. Yes, Catherine didn't seem to like Cedric's attention much, but that would go away if she kept pushing him away harshly, as she was bound to do.

But Rhea really just didn't know what to think.

/-/

Remus rubbed his palms on his thighs as he watched Sirius pace the staff room. The rumor had come back to them that Cedric had asked Catherine out again. Well, by the time the rumor made it to the staff, it was that Cedric had proposed marriage to Catherine on the Quidditch pitch at dawn and they were planning to elope before classes on Monday.

Of course, Sirius wasn't naïve enough to believe gossip, so they were able to discern that Cedric had at least made some sort of move toward dating Catherine, and from what Remus could tell from Hufflepuff boys who'd been there when it happened, Catherine had cruelly spurned him once more.

So there was nothing for Sirius to worry about. Was there?

Still, Sirius paced the staff room frantically, either trying to think of a way to keep Cedric and Catherine away from each other, or looking for a way to dispose of Cedric and make it look like an accident. Remus was hoping for the former.

"She's a sensible girl, Padfoot," he said softly, flicking his wand to stoke the fire.

"Is she?" Sirius said bitterly. "She snuck out in the middle of the night, and not just out of the house, out of the bloody county. She managed to get herself involved in some stranger's domestic and earn a black eye and a court appearance."

"As a witness."

"Remus."

Remus just sighed, knowing reason would do nothing to help his friend now.

/-/

Laura traced her broomstick with shaking fingers, smiling to herself, not wanting to go to bed because she knew that if she brought it into bed with her, the other girls would tease her relentlessly. Still, she was buzzing with excitement. She was on the Quidditch team, and she was victorious.

/-/

Monday after classes, Harry and Catherine reported for their detention with Remus, and he gave them feeding instructions, noting the slight wrinkle of Catherine's nose and Harry's frown that seemed to be of concern, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Catherine. A horrible eventuality occurred to Remus, that someday Harry might let the veil fall from his eyes and realize that Catherine was beautiful, and what would Sirius think of his best friend's son if he started noticing Sirius's precious little girl?

They began to work and Remus sat down with a stack of essays that needed grading. They worked well together, he thought, the corners of his mouth twitching. That is, they worked well together when they weren't being cruel to each other over things that didn't matter.

"Here, let me," Harry said, stopping Catherine before she had to put her hands in the barrel of flobberworms. Remus was careful not to obviously watch them.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Get the scale ready," he said, shrugging. "You're more accurate with that sort of thing, anyway."

That was true. Severus sometimes would praise Catherine's uncannily accurate measurements to the skies. She murmured a soft word of agreement and began readying the scales, checking their balance and Remus sighed softly.

It wouldn't happen, he told himself. Harry and Catherine were not Lily and James. It wouldn't happen.

 **A/N: So, Cedric's approaching Catherine again, Ron has made the Quidditch team, and Remus has his concerns.**

 **Review Prompt: Scale of one to burn-her-face-off, let it all out. How much do you hate Cho Chang? Plenty of you have shared your dislike of her, but be honest. Express your hatred. It's probably therapeutic.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Cedric play some future significance? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: Apart from meddling now? He'll crop back up and play a very important role in Part 3. In Part 2, he's more a nuisance than anything, but he's a critical character in Part 3. Don't worry. He doesn't ask anybody out.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	75. Bust Up

**A/N: Everybody ready for Bonus Chapter Thirteen? This is crazy, guys. We're past double our previous record. Keep those reviews rolling in!**

 **-C**

It was Severus's idea to turn the Dueling Club into a merit-based membership, given the way certain less-talented students had tried to use what they'd learned in corridors, and caused quite few dangerous incidents. Sirius, probably recalling his own child's behavior during such incidents, had agreed, and it really hadn't mattered what Remus's thoughts on the matter was. He was outvoted if he thought it was a poor plan.

Trials were set for the first Hogsmeade weekend, so students who were not serious about the club would already be tempted to go do something else, and those who turned out would prove their sincerity. Few people would want to miss the first Hogsmeade weekend, especially as it was traditionally on Halloween.

Severus was not surprised to see Catherine, Jason, and Caroline signed up for the trials. Nor was he surprised to see Aeson, Harry, Draco. Cedric Diggory turned out, which some younger students were whispering to themselves was not fair.

Remus had devised a strategy to determine which younger students were worth keeping despite their lack of knowledge, and had created rubrics for each grade level which all three men had agreed to, and they started with the first year students, knowing starting at the top would only intimidate some of the younger students, who might sneak away before their names were called.

As Sirius suggested, they saved Aeson and Caroline for the end of the first year trials, and most of their classmates could do little more than flash sparks at each other. Caroline and Aeson, on the other hand, had talented older siblings and perhaps too much time on their hands for learning spells before they were old enough.

Severus was impressed. Yes, they were young and unpolished, but both had instinct for technique, and both had the confidence necessary to face any of the older students with confidence. He made a note of their reflexes, which he had noticed during detention and continued to see during their Potions lessons. Sirius nodded when he saw the note.

The second year students came out, Dennis Creevey all boldness with very little substance, Jason a quiet talent, but without the same fire his sisters had. Natalie McDonald was surprisingly talented, and Severus noted her natural, graceful technique.

Catherine was finally called forward, and she had no lack of confidence. She used an impressive array of spells, and several of the younger students muttered with awe. Ginny Weasley had been quite talented, as well, but Catherine had many more years of practice, and a natural arrogance that allowed her to try things Miss Weasley would never dream of.

A small voice in the back of Severus's head told him Catherine would be an incredible talent with Dark Magic, but he pushed the thought away. The temptation was a strong one to see what she could accomplish, but to go down that road again was a very slippery slope for him, and it was clear Catherine did not need power offered up to her as a temptation. She would take it. She would take it, and her poor judgment would lead to catastrophe.

Too much like her father.

Harry's year came next, with a variety of bumbling students. Neville Longbottom was surprisingly not awful, Ron Weasley was a bit weak, and Draco was refreshingly polished. But Harry Potter had undeniable raw talent that frustrated Severus. Severus thought Catherine would wipe the floor with him, given proper training, but there was no denying Defense was Harry's best, most natural subject.

The older students obviously tried to show off their increased knowledge of spells as they were called forward, but they were being held to a very high standard, not just on spell knowledge, but on technique, power, and confidence. The point of the Dueling Club was not just to teach students how to duel, but to allow older students to be an example to the younger students of promise. That required narrowing down to the best examples. Diggory, of course, was among those examples, and Severus did not miss the glance Diggory gave to Catherine after his demonstration.

Sirius noticed as well, his hand tightening as he wrote his notes. Of course, they couldn't turn Diggory away, and Sirius knew this, but Severus would have to make sure Sirius did not do something stupid – like trying to murder all his daughter's potential suitors.

/-/

Rose Zeller had tried for the Dueling Club, with her friends in Gryffindor, and she knew, when the results were posted, that she had just made it by the skin of her teeth. Caroline had been spectacular, and Ourania had real potential, and even Damon seemed very talented, but Rose wasn't sure what the teachers had seen in her.

Still, she was pleased to know she would share an activity with her friends, that she would be able to spend time with them without relying on their time in Herbology for their social life.

"Wow," Tabatha said, frowning. "Lucky you. Isn't Professor Black cute?"

Rose frowned and said, "Dunno. I guess he's a bit attractive."

"Wish I had extra opportunities to look at him," Tabatha said with a frown. "Wonder how much I missed it by."

Rose didn't even want to guess.

/-/

Damon showed up for the very first meeting of the Dueling Club with some measure of excitement. He knew he was far from the top prospect in the first year, but he enjoyed watching his sister learn, and he liked the idea of watching Caroline and Aeson duel, as they both so badly wanted to do.

He settled into one of the chairs set out for the meeting in the Great Hall, and he watched Ourania and Caroline gossip happily with a nervous-looking Rose Zeller. He knew Caroline ordered him around, and he'd only agreed to try for the club because she told him to, but he'd never say out loud that he liked her telling him to do things for her. He liked that she'd told him to try, because it meant she wanted him to be there. And he really, really liked to look at her, to hear her voice, to watch her be excellent, as she was at everything she did.

But he would never say it out loud, especially not to his twin.

/-/

Astoria sat down with Blaise, watching him watch some of the Quidditch players as they planned the pre-match hijinks before the Gryffindor v Slytherin match, which would be coming up soon.

"I hope you're not getting mixed up in that mess," she said, smiling slightly as he glanced up at her, surprised.

She was getting much better and moving quietly. Blaise usually noticed everything.

"Of course not," he said, smirking. "You know I never get my hands dirty." He glanced back at the Quidditch team and said, "So, it's Draco, isn't it? You've got your eye on Draco."

Astoria just smiled and said nothing, and watched his smile deepen from her nonverbal response.

/-/

Hermione knew before they started practicing with their peers that she didn't belong in the Dueling Club. She could see, from who made it in the younger years, that talent and athleticism were more important for dueling than knowledge. While she didn't want to totally discount herself on talent, she knew her athleticism left much indeed to be desired.

When they paused for a rest, Hermione turned to Neville, who was her partner, and said, "Did you see Caroline and Aeson?"

"Yeah," Neville said, grinning. "They've been sneaking their mothers' wands and dueling for ages, just for a laugh. Caro's brilliant, and Aeson's ruthless."

Hermione had a feeling that Caroline was quite ruthless as well, knowing her elder sister, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Right," Professor Black said, standing on the platform and smacking his hands together and gathering the attention of the students. "That's probably all we've got time for today, but we'll meet again same time, same place next week. We just want to thank you, because we want you to be able to learn a valuable skill, and improve yourselves overall as witches and wizards, and we're thinking about introducing a competition, not necessarily this year, but soon, to add a new dimension to this club. What do you guys think?"

The students cheered, and they were dismissed with a reminder not to practice in the hallway on fellow students, and Hermione sighed, following Neville, Harry, and Ron out.

"You know who would be the scariest partner?" Ron said.

"Who, Ginny?" Neville teased. "Fred?"

"Kitty?" Harry offered, frowning.

"No, Caroline," Ron said, shivering. "She gives me the creeps. I think she's rather dangerous."

"Oh, yeah," Harry said casually. "Hates losing. And she bites."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, horrified. Somehow, she couldn't imagine Catherine doing such a thing. Catherine liked to maintain some semblance of dignity. But Caroline Black, biting someone?

"Oh, sure," Harry said, grinning. "Maybe a year before I got my letter, she lost at some game we were playing. Gobstones?"

"Exploding Snap," Neville said.

"That's right. Anyway, she was annihilated, and she was so angry because she'd bet one of the rarer cards in her collection, which was the last stupid mistake she ever made on that account. And she was so angry, she bit me. Broke the skin. Her mother was horrified, and mine was furious, but our dads just laughed it off. They tried to take it seriously, but they couldn't help laughing."

That struck Hermione as actually rather terrible, but she watched Caroline push her bag on Damon Prewett, who jumped to, taking it for her obediently and eagerly, and Hermione realized perhaps this youngest Black child was a bit of a barbarian.

Strange to think, but she supposed some children went through that stage. Of course, most of them grew out of it.

/-/

Cara began her preparations for Christmas early, going to Selwyn Manor almost a month early and moving in the belongings of her family bit by bit, taking something over from London every day. Sirius came to see her at the Manor one evening after classes, and he found her in their bedroom, the same room they'd slept in after their wedding.

She was alerted to his presence by his arms wrapping around her waist from behind, nestling his face against her hair.

"I love you," she sighed, touching his hair with a raised arm.

"I love you, too," he murmured, moving her hair to press his lips to her neck. "Are you sure staying here alone won't be too expansive and lonely?"

"Mmm."

She wasn't sure, but she really didn't care. Staying alone at Grimmauld Place was worse, with all the memories of the children running around, even her most aggravating of times trying to wrangle Caroline into submission.

Before Cara could think of something to say to convince Sirius she would be fine, she felt his hand pulling up the skirt of her robes, his breathing growing heavier at her neck as he anticipated the point of touching her skin.

Smiling to herself, Cara pulled away, ignoring his moan of disappointment, hearing it cut off abruptly as she pulled off her robes in a swift motion, turning to face him, and watching his jaw slowly drop as his eyes traced her body for what was probably the thousandth time. It never grew old.

/-/

Severus largely ignored the onslaught of Gryffindor versus Slytherin violence that began to grow before the traditional season starter. Of course, he kept a particularly close eye on Caroline and Aeson, who seemed to be growing increasingly vicious toward each other as time went on.

When he sat down to watch the match, however, he noticed Draco was very irritated about something, and he asked Sirius if he knew what it was.

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "I think Lucius has finally announced he's looking at arranging a marriage for his son. Not publically, mind, but to enough people that it's gotten back to Draco. And you know the type of girls he might end up with."

Severus hummed, concerned that Draco would do something stupid while he was upset.

/-/

Cora sat with Natalie, Dennis, Jimmy, and Jason in the stands, and she kept squeezing her hands together anxiously as the whistle was blown and play began. She didn't usually have problems with watching Quidditch, but Slytherin versus Gryffindor was always a rough match, and with half the Gryffindor team being her cousins, it made the whole thing much more tense.

Jason glanced at her hands, obviously realizing how nervous she was, and he said, "Hey, did any of your parents give you an answer yet on whether you'd be coming to Selwyn Manor for Christmas?"

They all said they would be coming, although Natalie was the last to answer, and she blushed as she did. Cora took note of this, and the way Natalie wasn't meeting Jason's eye as she answered.

Did she fancy him, Cora wondered?

/-/

Brontes sat up straighter as he watched the players landing at the end of the Quidditch match, the Gryffindors victorious on a large portion, Draco landing with a tightness in his shoulders that Brontes knew was indicative of his being furious. Brontes silently hoped Draco would not do anything foolish, and Blaise was muttering such hopes under his breath beside Brontes, but Draco was already making his way over to the celebrating Gryffindors, and saying Merlin knows what to Harry.

Harry gave Draco a bewildered sort of look shaking his head and saying something that seemed to fire Draco up even more, although it was said calmly. Draco made a response, and one of the Weasley twins charged at Draco. The other twin held him back, and Harry paled.

"What is he doing?" Astoria said, horrified. "What can he have said?"

"Not sure," Blaise said, frowning. "His head's not been in the right place since he got that letter from his father yesterday."

"Wonder what was in it," she said, frowning as something Draco said enraged Harry, and a brawl began on the field, with Draco losing handily as the second twin let go of his struggling brother. Blaise hummed his agreement about wanting to know what had been said.

Brontes hadn't seen it, but he had a pretty go idea, nonetheless. He pursed his lips, thinking of Draco's unfortunate plight of knowing that his father was going to arrange a marriage for him to a pureblooded girl suitable of courting. It wouldn't be so bad, Brontes thought, except the options of eligible girls were extremely limited. Pansy, Daphne, and Adrasteia would be top of the list, and Draco couldn't stand any of them. Of course, if Draco married Adrasteia they would actually be family, but Brontes wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially on anyone he liked.

Madam Hooch and several professors managed to separate the students in question, and when Uncle Sirius was told what was said, he looked at Draco with an expression of astonishment and anger that told Brontes enough of what had been said to puzzle out a bit of what had happened on the pitch.

For some reason, Draco had insulted Catherine, perhaps using a jab at her to insult Harry by proxy or comparison. This jab had bewildered Harry, then angered George Weasley who was famously infatuated with her, and his twin held him back from doing something stupid. But Harry wasn't going to take insults on Catherine forever, or on himself, and he finally snapped and attacked Draco, and either Fred Weasley decided he couldn't hold his brother any longer, or that he didn't want to, so he let George go and the pummeling of Draco in a hideously Muggle manner commenced.

Detentions, surely, Brontes thought bitterly, and perhaps some suspension from the team for a brief time, missed practices, that sort of thing.

Well, it would be suitable, and Uncle Sirius would punish Draco fitly for his behavior at the very least, but Brontes would do some quiet, calm reminders to Draco that using Catherine as a tool for his ends – regardless of how or why – was not acceptable. Brontes was already trying to decide where was the best place to put the itching powder.

/-/

Delia sat down to dinner with her husband and smiled to herself as if secretly.

"We are having Christmas with the Blacks and their guests," he said, sitting down. Her smile dropped at once, as did her stomach, because she knew the sorts that her husband's sister and brother-in-law had invited to spend the winter with them at Selwyn Manor.

"I'm afraid I've already declined their invitation," she said, looking down at her water goblet with a pounding heart. "It's going to be terribly full of people there, you know. The Blacks, the Potters, the Longbottoms, all the Weasleys, the Prewetts, several Muggle friends of the younger children. No, dear. No thank you."

"Muggle-born," Rabastan corrected, as if such things mattered. "And I know you have. Don't worry, dear, I know you want to spend the bulk of the holiday in your own home, and understandably. But they're having a large feast on Christmas for dinner, and I have informed my sister we will be present, all five of us, and you will not argue on this point. Narcissa is even bring Lucius and Draco. If you've nothing pleasant to say to anyone, perhaps you and Lucius can retreat to a corner with your drinks and say unpleasant things about everyone else. I'm sure you'll find that a grand use of time."

It was certainly not how Delia wanted to spend her Christmas dinner, but she knew when Rabastan spoke like this he was not to be moved, so she agreed, mildly, and asked if he wanted to have any special arrangements for the children's first night back.

 **A/N: So, Draco's under familial pressure, Harry gets in a fistfight for Catherine's honor, and Caroline is barbaric according to Hermione Granger.**

 **Review Prompt: Write the verbal spat between the boys on the pitch. Just what did Draco say?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Cara/Sirius new baby? (Asma20)**

 **A: OMG I'm dying. As entertaining as it would be to see Sirius during his wife's pregnancy in this universe, I'm not going there. For one, that would take too much attention away from the older children. For another, when his grandchildren start arriving, we don't want a young child of his around as well. It's already complicated enough. Lol. I appreciate the idea, though.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	76. Christmas Treats

**A/N: Weekly bonus thirteen! Still more to come! ALSO: This is your only warning of underage cigarette, alcohol, and drug use in this story. It starts in this chapter, and becomes such a regular theme that I'm not bothering to put a warning beyond this point. If such things bother you, apologies, but it's essential to my plot.**

 **-C**

Ryana's hands were shaking the whole way to London, and she felt breathless as Catherine led the way to the large group gathering in King's Cross parking lot, all going to drive to Selwyn Manor, a place Ryana had still never been.

The Blacks would be taking their three children and squeezing in Luna Lovegood, as well. The Potters were taking Harry, Hermione Granger, and the Creevey brothers. The Longbottoms were driving Neville, Jimmy, Ryana, and Natalie MacDonald. And the Prewetts, who had a larger car, were taking their four children, plus Rose Zeller, who was apparently a close friend of Caroline and Ourania. The Weasleys would be taking the rest of their children in their car.

At least, this was the original plan.

Ryana stood in mild shock as Catherine almost single-handedly rearranged the cars. Her parents were now driving her, Rhea, Luna, and Ginny. The Potters were taking Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione. The Longbottoms were graciously taking Ryana, the Creevey brothers, and Jimmy. The Weasleys were still taking the rest of their children. And the Prewetts were taking the younger Black children, their children (apart from Rhea), and Rose. In some ways, Ryana had to admit, it made more sense than the first plan, but she felt strange being ushered into a car with three boys she didn't really talk to.

"So," Mrs. Longbottom said cheerfully. "I don't think any of us have met. I'm Alice, and this is my husband, Frank. We're Neville's parents, obviously. We work in the Ministry."

"Aurors," Colin said softly, and Dennis let out a small gasp of approval and delight.

"That's right," Frank Longbottom said with a grin. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourselves? Ladies first, Miss Cotton."

Ryana cleared her throat and smiled nervously at Alice Longbottom, who gave her a kind and encouraging smile.

"Well, I'm Ryana Cotton," Ryana said, slightly breathlessly. "I'm a fourth year. Hufflepuff. I'm…I'm coming because I'm friends with Kitty. We…we share a dormitory. My parents are Muggles. They would have come, but my gran needs looking after."

The Longbottoms nodded understandingly, and Colin spoke next.

"I'm Colin, and this is my brother, Dennis," he said. "Creevey. We're both in Gryffindor. I'm a fourth year, and Dennis is a second year. I'm friends with Kitty and Ginny, and he's friends with Jason and their lot. Our parents are Muggles, too. Our dad's a milkman."

"Oh, that sounds interesting," Frank Longbottom said earnestly. "Very important, too, I imagine."

"Guess so," Dennis said with a shrug, bewildered that anyone would find being a milkman important or interesting. Ryana pursed her lips to hold in her giggle.

"And I'm Jimmy Peakes," Jimmy said, smiling. "Gryffindor, second year. I share a dormitory with Dennis and Jason, and we've all been friends since the train. I'm half-blood, I guess. Or, something like that. My parents were both Muggle-born. I'm not really Muggle-born, though, so I guess I'm half-blood."

"I don't see as it really matters," Alice Longbottom said very seriously, and Ryana decided she liked the Longbottoms very much.

/-/

Pansy was Apparated back to her home from the station, but she hadn't missed the gaggle of people crowding around the Blacks in the parking lot, and when she arrived home and went to her room to change into proper robes, she was still burning with some measure of jealousy. She had always wanted to see Selwyn Manor, which was supposed to be one of the most beautiful of the old pureblood homes in England, and a bunch of Muggle-borns would be seeing it before her.

It just didn't seem right.

She looked her expression over in the mirror and pondered when she would begin pressing her parents again for an opportunity to have Daphne over during the holiday, away from her horrid little sister, always listening and watching, only speaking when she had something clever to say.

Pansy never trusted Astoria Greengrass. She decided to wait on the question for a day, anyway.

"Mother," she said as she went down to the sitting room. "Will we be going to Malfoy Manor for Christmas?"

"No," her mother said calmly.

"No?" Pansy asked, mildly horrified.

"No, Narcissa tells me she's going to her cousin's house for Christmas dinner, with her family, and thus they will be having no guests this year.

Even more hatred of Catherine Black and her awful family burned in Pansy as she heard and accepted this news. Another Christmas wasted.

/-/

Ryana felt her jaw drop as she was helped out of the car by Frank Longbottom, and she saw the splendor of the front garden. She gasped as she saw the gate Professor Black was holding open, watching everyone as they filed in on the gravel walk, Madam Black holding the door to the very stately manor open and giving instruction to each person as they entered with a warm smile.

This was just one of the homes of the Black family, she realized as she followed the boys she'd journeyed with up to the gate, and her own family's rather comfortable two-bedroom home suddenly seemed horribly inadequate. No wonder Catherine often didn't interact with people on a normal level. She certainly wasn't normal.

Professor Black greeted her, and she smiled in response, feeling slightly dizzy as she walked up the steps, thinking how regal and beautiful Madam Black looked as she welcomed the Creevey brothers.

"Ryana," Madam Black said in a soft, melodic voice. "If you go up the stairs here, take a left, and you should see some of the girls. Find Kitty or Caro, and they'll show you which room you'll be in. They're helping people find their places."

"My trunk," Ryana said, realizing, blushing, that it was still in the car of the Longbottoms.

"Never you mind, dear. Dobby will bring the trunks along."

A house-elf, Ryana realized. The Blacks had a house-elf. What a remarkable thing.

She walked up the stairs, hands shaking, seeing the boys rush to the left at the top of the stair, and just seeing Catherine and Harry arguing about something right at the center of the top of the stairs.

"Erm, Kitty?" Ryana said nervously, wishing she didn't have to interrupt them.

"Right," Catherine said, smirking at Harry. "I've got to play hostess, Harry. You know where to go. See that those heathens you boys have brought along with you end up where they belong, will you?"

Harry snorted, said a brief word of parting to Ryana, and went the other direction as Catherine led Ryana toward the room that would be hers for about a month.

/-/

Jasper Jorkins had opted to stay at the castle over the holiday. He thought it might be quieter for getting ahead on his reading for the new term. He was curious to find out what the difference in feel of the castle would be without so many people around it. And he thought it would be such a waste, not to see the decorations for the full extent of their time at least once before graduating.

Not only that, but he wasn't especially eager to be around the house at Christmas if he could help it. Crazy Aunt Bertha usually came around for Christmas and beleaguered him with her many tales of things he didn't care about from her work at the Ministry, or her time at school when she was a girl. When she found out he was Sorted into the same House as Catherine Black, she'd sent a lengthy letter about how she'd known Catherine's father at school, back before he was a respectable professor.

He'd read about a third of the letter before he'd gone so red that he decided not to read the rest of it or he'd never be able to converse with any of the Blacks under any circumstances without stammering madly. He was positive that only a fraction of it was true, but as Bertha could be relied upon to always get part of the story right and simply elaborate the rest beyond reason, he would never be certain which things were false, so he burned the letter, just in case.

No. Hogwarts would be a lovely change.

/-/

Harry thought that Selwyn Manor was even better when it was full of people, but he noticed fairly quickly the mass of people allowed Catherine to fall through the cracks with alarming frequency, even avoiding her closest friends and father without too much concern. But Jason noticed, and Harry noticed, and both boys were watching her very closely.

On Christmas Eve, after dinner, Harry's father challenged Uncle Sirius to a duel in the back field, in the snow, which everyone had eagerly egged on, and Uncle Sirius really had no choice but to accept. As everyone else went outside, Harry saw Catherine sneak upstairs from the back staircase, for use by house-elves and human servants almost exclusively. Harry waited for Jason to nod at him and walk out back with the rest before he slipped up those same stairs, careful not to be noticed as he followed the sound of her footsteps.

She was curled up in her father's study, one of his smoking jackets on, wrapped around her, resting her head on the back of his favorite leather chair. Harry frowned, watching her from the doorway, not sure if he should disturb what looked like a relatively harmless ritual or walk away. He was just beginning to think he should walk away when she said, "In or out, Harry. I do hate when you linger."

He let out a small, bitter chuckle and followed her into the room, sitting on the edge of the desk and looking down at her. She didn't open her eyes, and her long, dark waves cascaded gracefully over the jacket and chair.

"Is this where you've been sneaking off to?" he asked.

"It's where Daddy comes when he's anxious or sulking," she said softly. "I thought it might help…. Well, I don't really like the noise. The crowds. I wish they hadn't invited so many people."

"I thought you wanted your father to hold a ball."

He saw a tear leak from between her closed lids and roll down her cheek. She didn't raise a hand to wipe it away.

"I don't think I'd like that after all. Not anymore. I envy Mum, actually. She can hide away whenever she likes, and Daddy would never argue, no matter what the occasion."

Harry felt he should say something, but he didn't know what. She ran her fingers over some of the cigarettes her father had sitting out in his second case, and Harry was about to tell her not to start when she pulled one out expertly and held it between her fingers, using her wand to light it. He realized she'd done this before, and there was something strangely…alluring about the way she looked, her little lips in an 'o' shape, letting the smoke escape from between them in a light exhale. The scent was disgusting, but he could feel his pulse rising and he couldn't imagine why. Was it the fear of their being caught like this, getting in trouble for it? Was it the sensation that he should have stopped her and he did nothing?

Her eyes opened and she said, "Daddy always smokes these when he's upset. He doesn't think I know."

"Does it help?"

"It's surprisingly soothing."

"Doesn't it taste gross?"

She smiled a little, and he found he was leaning forward a bit, although he wasn't sure why.

"It's really not so bad," she said. "Very smooth. Here, try."

He shouldn't. He really knew he shouldn't, but the way she held it out to him, the fact this was Catherine and he didn't want her to tease him if he said no, he didn't want to get himself in that kind of mess. He sighed and shrugged, taking it between his fingers like he'd seen someone do on telly.

"What do I do?" he asked.

She gave him instructions on how to breathe it in, how long to hold it in his lungs, and how to exhale. He wondered where she'd learned this, but he chastised himself because he knew she picked up her knowledge from all over the place. He suspected George Weasley.

It was all he could do not to cough, and he handed it back to her, thinking it was all so much more graceful and attractive when he watched her do it, versus how clumsy and stupid and gross he'd felt trying to do it himself. It hadn't tasted quite as bad as he'd expected, certainly not as bad as it smelled when he first smelled it, but the longer they sat there the fuzzier he felt. They were just cigarettes, so that shouldn't be the case, but somehow Harry felt this experience was transcending what it actually was, into something else.

He just couldn't imagine what.

/-/

Neville tapped his fingers on the stack of gifts, trying not to think about the strange behavior lately of Harry, who seemed to be sneaking around the house at strange times, or retreating to his room and locking the door for hours. Neville finally asked Jason if he knew what was going on, but Jason just told him Catherine and Harry were getting space.

Perhaps it had to do with the mess they'd been caught up in over the summer, but Neville thought it was becoming more than that. He began opening his presents from his parents, feeling a sickening feeling all the while that he would have to draw the pair of them out of this spiral or there'd be no way for anyone to properly understand them except each other ever again. Possibly not the worst thing in the world, if they could both function. But how was he going to explain to Cho, or Catherine explain it to whomever she dated?

Catherine could probably get away with it, Neville mused. Men seemed to let her get away with everything. But Harry? Harry wouldn't have the same benefit, Neville was certain.

And he thought he'd smelled cigarette smoke lingering in an alcove they'd been in, and that thought was disturbing to Neville on a level he couldn't even explain to himself.

/-/

Christmas dinner was a grand affair, beginning in the dining room and ending in the ballroom, with so many people, including the Malfoys and the Lestranges and the Tonkses. Catherine was wearing a set of cobalt blue dress robes, and she realized Harry was watching her, frowning slightly like he was thinking about something. She tried not to smile as she thought about the astonished look in his brilliant green eyes as she offered him his first cigarette in her father's study, and the look of mild disgust just around his nose as he tasted it for the first time.

There was some kind of strange power she felt in dragging Harry into her possibly poor choices, and she had a wonderful idea. She saw the champagne and she ran through the instructions George had given her for using a hairpin to open a lock. She caught Draco's eye and he nodded to her, gliding across the ballroom floor with a single glance to where her father and his mother were talking. Harry was watching them, concerned.

"I have it," he said softly, frowning at her. "Blaise thinks this is hilarious, by the way, but I really wish you wouldn't."

"And yet you get it for me anyway," she said, smirking. "Where is it?"

"I put it where you told me to. He said it's pre-rolled and ready to smoke. Kitty, don't."

"It's harmless. He said so."

"Yes, but Blaise is…" Draco pursed his lips and shook his head. "Don't do this alone."

"I won't," she said, winking. "But I'm not doing it with the expectation of you joining me, Draco, don't worry. Ciao."

Before he could argue, she gave Harry a look full of significance and she made sure no one was looking before slipping out a side door, up the stairway to the second floor, about twenty paces from her bedroom. She knew she had very little time before Harry followed her to this point, so she hurried down the hall to where her father kept the alcohol and she picked the lock, taking more time than she would have liked. Then she slipped inside, looking at the things her father drank the least often and had the most of, knowing those would be least likely to be missed. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the back of a line and hurried back into the hall, careful to lock the door behind her.

Harry was waiting, puzzled in the hall, and she winked at him to keep him from asking questions, grabbed the paper-wrapped packet Draco had slipped into the vase across from her room, as she instructed him, and hurried into her bedroom, gesturing for Harry to follow. He did follow, hesitatingly before coming in and closing the door behind him. She lit a few candles, told Harry to have a seat, and he did, frowning, looking at the bottle nervously.

"What's in the packet?" he asked.

"Something better than what we've been smoking."

Harry's head jerked up, but Catherine sat gracefully beside him and opened the bottle, taking a long swig of the burning liquid.

"Don't worry. Daddy never drinks this stuff. He won't even notice I took it. There's about six in this house."

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked as she passed him the whiskey and opened the packet, pulling out a well-rolled joint.

"I know a guy who knows a guy," she said cryptically. "Look, I was specifically informed not to do this alone, so are you going to join me and make sure I'm okay like the chivalrous Gryffindor I know you are, or are you going to leave?"

She lit the joint, watching him struggle with this dilemma as she let out a puff of sweet-smelling smoke. The longer he watched her smoke, as with the cigarettes, the more he relaxed. He began to drink from the bottle, several swigs, before finally moving closer and allowing her to put a joint in his mouth and light it. They smoked through two each before Catherine curled up against him, lazily sharing the bottle, feeling a warm contentment she hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

"Sometimes," she muttered, resting her hand on Harry's chest, "I feel kind of lonely when I'm around all those people."

"I know," he whispered. "I won't tell."

 **A/N: So, Kitty is experimenting, Jason is keeping a cautious eye on the developments, and Harry finds himself half-reluctantly along for the ride.**

 **Review Prompt: Cigarettes, alcohol, pot… a harmless diversion for some very precocious children, or a dangerous spiral into more dangerous distractions?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why did you choose Cedric to be Kitty's bane? (DREAMLESSLY17)**

 **A: Great question! It made sense for it to be someone from her House, and our list of canon Hufflepuffs is limited. I like Smith as a pain in her arse, but not actually being interested in her. This basically left me with Cedric. I also liked the added levels it gave me around the Yule Ball, and around how I'm wrapping up Cho's involvement in the story, which I promise is coming SOON.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	77. Valentine: Part 1

**A/N: Here's bonus fifteen! All you Cho haters? I'm going to die of laughter over the next chapter or so, reading y'alls reviews.**

 **-C**

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her best friend in suspicion. She really wasn't sure what was up with Catherine, but she'd been less and less herself lately, and she seemed to be popping up with Harry frequently in the most unusual places. Rhea had nervously suggested they might be having a secret love affair, but Ginny wasn't so sure.

Especially with this latest thing.

"Why are you writing to Cho Chang pretending to be Harry?" Ginny asked her friend, trying to keep the confrontation out of her voice, but not really succeeding.

"Not your business," Catherine said airily. "Are you still going to Hogsmeade with Michael Corner next week?"

Ginny felt her face go red and said, "None of yours."

Catherine smirked, sealing the letter before Ginny could finish reading it, and then said, "Relax, darling. I'm giving him what he thinks he wants."

The more Catherine told her to relax, the more Ginny was certain it was a terrible idea, but she knew Catherine and Luna had both told her she really didn't want to spend Valentine's Day with Michael Corner, but she was going with him anyway. Maybe her judgment was flawed.

"Did you know my baby sister is a bossy little cuss?" Catherine said, walking Ginny out to the owlery.

"Um, yes, but what did she do this time?"

"She's told Damon that he's going to be her Valentine, and she laid out what she expected."

Ginny shook her head, smiling. The thing nobody but Catherine and herself seemed to understand from watching Damon jump when Caroline said jump, was that he seemed perfectly happy with the arrangement. At first, Ginny thought her cousin might just be practiced, from the way his twin treated him all their lives, but this was definitely different. Damon almost seemed pleased when Caroline ordered him to do something, which Ginny would have said was a bit kinky, were the pair a bit older.

"Where's Michael taking you?"

"Dunno. He said it's a surprise," Ginny said, shoving her hands in her pockets and walking up the slippery steps to the owls. "What are you girls doing? Or have you accepted one of your many offers for a date?"

Catherine smiled slyly and said, "I'm meeting George and Fred to start with, and then we're going to meet with the girls for lunch. George promised to show me something they've developed for listening at long distances that I think may come in handy if all goes well."

"If what goes well?" Ginny asked, feeling her stomach turn with nerves.

Catherine just gave her cryptic smile as an answer and stopped at Hedwig, Harry's beautiful snowy owl. The owl, recognizing her and nuzzling her sweetly with a strong beak, moved even closer.

"Hello, beautiful," Catherine said in a sweet, melodic voice she saved for animals, her father, and when she wanted something off someone. "I know I'm not Harry, but I'm doing this for him. Okay? I want you to deliver this to this awful girl for me, can you do that?"

Hedwig cooed and held out her leg to Ginny's surprise, and Catherine tied the forged letter, kissing Hedwig's beak before she fluttered away.

"How are you and that owl on such good terms?" Ginny asked, nervous. "You two always use those mirrors, not letters."

"He promised not to use them after hours," Catherine said with a smile. "Sometimes, Ginny, we still write letters."

/-/

Rhea frowned at Ginny as Catherine walked past them at the Gryffindor table, up to Harry. Ginny shrugged, but Rhea had a feeling that she knew whatever was going on. Catherine confidently dropped a note down by Harry's plate and said, "Whatever plans you had, change them. I suggest you thank Hedwig as well as me. She's been a very good girl."

Harry looked at the note, then up at her in astonishment, and he hissed, "Kitty, what did you do?"

Catherine winked at him, but he wasn't letting it drop at that.

"Kitty, what did you say to her? What did your letter say?"

"Just basics, Harry," Catherine said, sitting primly down the table from him, on the other side of Luna, who was still eating her porridge like nothing had happened. "That you think she's very pretty and talented and you wanted to spent Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade with her. Which is all true, I'm sure. Now, take her to that tea room. She likes that sort of thing. I…asked her friend."

Ginny choked slightly on her pumpkin juice and Luna's lips finally twitched as Rhea suddenly recalled Catherine locking Marietta Edgecombe in a broom cupboard for three hours a couple of weeks ago. Rhea never did know why, nor why Marietta was eventually released, but Catherine had been eminently satisfied for days.

"If you say so," Harry said, looking hesitant.

"Harry, darling, when have I ever been wrong about something when I told you it was worth doing?"

Judging by the way his shoulders tensed and the look he gave her, this was the reference to some secret between them, but Catherine was unruffled by his look, and breakfast proceeded as usual from that point.

/-/

Jimmy wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers as he sat down at the table for breakfast, and he kept glancing at Jason and Natalie, who nodded him on, encouragingly. Cora was looking down at her book, so Jimmy cleared his throat to get her attention. She glanced up at him, said a morning greeting softly, then looked back down at her book.

At this point, Jimmy felt frantic. He didn't have Dennis's ability to speak his mind, or Jason's sensitivity to the girls. Jason just understood girls, probably something coming from having two sisters. Jimmy wiped his palms on his trousers again and looked at Jason with the most pitiful look he could conjure.

"What are your plans for Saturday, Jimmy?" Natalie said helpfully.

"Erm, I was going to go for a fly around the lake," he said, feeling slightly relieved. "C-Cora, d'you want to come, too?"

Cora looked up at him, frowning slightly before she shrugged, looked down at her book, and said, "As long as it's in the afternoon. I want to get some of my Charms essay done in the morning."

Jimmy sighed slightly with relief and Dennis snorted and rolled his eyes. His suggestion for an approach was for Jimmy to just out and say that he fancied her and that he wanted to snog her in the forest, but Jason had firmly vetoed this suggestion, much to Jimmy's very anxious relief. Flying around the lake as friends seemed like a good start.

/-/

Laura Madley frowned as she watched Harry Potter saying something softly to Cho Chang, looking exceedingly nervous. Behind them, watching, was Catherine Black, and instead of looking upset with his fancying Cho – which rumor said was the whole reason they were fighting at the beginning of the school year – she seemed to be satisfied about something, and Laura had been at Hogwarts long enough to know if Catherine Black, uncrowned queen of the school, looked satisfied about something, chaos was sure to follow.

"What's got you?" Kevin asked, trying to follow Laura's gaze, but the scene was already dissipating.

"Doesn't matter," Laura said with a shrug.

"Plans for the weekend?" he asked, adjusting the strap of her bag.

She sighed and said, "We need to do the Charms essay. Have you got all the books we agreed on?"

Kevin said he had, and then they began to set plans for when they would have breakfast, and whether they would do their work in the library, or somewhere else. It was too cold to be outside, but with the older students at Hogsmeade, the common room was a good option. It was always much quieter on a Hogsmeade weekend. They then decided when to take their lunch break, and when this was agreed, they went to class.

/-/

On Valentine's day, as she planned, Caroline arrived at breakfast to find a bouquet of her favorite flowers (which Uncle Remus helped Damon procure) and a card. She thanked him demurely and laughed at her father's irritated expression. Of course, it might have had less to do with the flowers Damon lavished her with to start the day and more to do with the massive influx of cards that arrived for her sister, who looked terribly bored by the whole thing. She went straight for a bar of chocolate she seemed to be expecting and let Ryana and Rhea open the rest for her, relating to her the ones that were interesting.

"Wow," Damon said, eyes wide. "Are you mad all you've got is this?"

"Gosh, no," Caroline said, kissing his cheek fondly. She loved the way he blushed when she did that. "I got exactly what I wanted. Poor Kitty has a bunch of things from people she doesn't even like. Is the picnic lunch ready?"

"Yes, Caro," he said, in a recitation she loved the sound of on his voice. She could get used to that.

/-/

Although Damon was afraid to say it out loud for about half a dozen different reason, he was quietly thrilled Caroline had ordered him to make arrangements to shower her with gifts and attention on Valentine's Day. It meant he had some measure of shielding from her father's wrath in case he didn't like that Damon was doing something for Caroline on this day. It meant he had an excuse to be around her all day, and that he didn't even have to plan anything on his own because she'd already said exactly what she wanted.

They took lunch on the fifth floor, in a classroom Professor McGonagall agreed they could use, with a picnic Professor Lupin kindly helped him prepare, finding the whole thing quite amusing. Everything was exactly to Caroline's liking, and once this was established, Damon could relax and enjoy time alone with her, letting her tell him stories of her brilliance while he watched her and listened to the melody of her voice. He could get used to days like these.

/-/

While her brother was being bossed around by a very demanding Caroline Black, Ourania was being doted on by a very excited Stewart Ackerley, a very sweet second year Ravenclaw whom Cora vetted and told her would treat her very well. He was friendly with Jason and Jimmy, which was how he'd even met Ourania, and the second he said he thought Ourania was prettier than Caroline, she agreed to let him be her valentine.

He took her out to the grounds and they had a snowball fight with the little bit of remaining snow near the lake. He was a lot of fun, and when they finished the fight, they walked together toward the edge of the lake and she dipped her fingers in playfully.

"Isn't that freezing?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Basically," she sighed, smiling. "You know, my eldest sister doesn't have a valentine?"

"No?" he asked, clearly not interested, but listening and smiling politely, regardless. "What's she doing today, then?"

"She's spending the day with friends. The morning with the girls, and then I guess my cousins are joining them at lunch."

"Which cousins?" he said, grinning and teasing. "After all, you have so many."

"The twins," she sighed, flipping some of her gingered hair over her shoulder. "Hey, d'you think you could touch the trunk of the Whomping Willow?"

"No," Stewart said with a laugh and a shake of his head. "No, I'm certain I couldn't, so let's not embarrass and possibly maim me by trying. You wouldn't really?"

Ourania shrugged. She might, if the right person dared her, but she didn't want to say that and lose a bit of her credibility. She preferred people to believe she was willing to do absolutely anything in the line of duty.

"So, is second year any different from the first?" she asked, walking with him toward the greenhouses, realizing he was walking a bit closer to her.

"Not really, I guess," he said, kicking a bit of snow away. "I mean, it doesn't feel new or different at all. And I've got to start thinking about electives I want to take. What I might want to do with my life. There's so many possibilities, I don't really want to limit myself. But on the other hand, I can't take everything."

"I wouldn't want to take everything," she said, frowning. "I can't imagine how much homework and reading that would be."

"I bet you'll want to be outside and active as much as possible," he said, giving her another one of his crooked grins. "I bet your parents are those type of people, too, what with the work they do. Are they exciting people?"

"They're usually quite tired people," Ourania said, laughing. "But Uncle Gideon is loads of fun. Hey, what about the forest? Have you ever gone in?"

Stewart laughed, surprising her by putting his arm around her shoulder as they walked. She thought it felt surprisingly nice.

/-/

James pressed kisses to Lily's neck as soon as she came home from her meeting at lunchtime. She laughed, telling him she was hungry, but he knew her slightly weak protestations were really her saying she wasn't just going to go to bed without coaxing. And James felt fully up to coaxing her.

He pressed kisses to her lips this time, his fingers tracing her neck from her jaw down to her collarbone, and she shivered at the sensations. He sighed, feeling a buzz of happiness as he thought about how twenty years ago, she told him she'd never, ever date him no matter what he did. And now here they were, married and spending every night together, a child together.

Continuing the kiss, he carefully walked backwards, leading her toward their bedroom by their connected lips. Lily laughed, obviously aware of what he was doing, and she squirmed a little by way of a weak struggle, but she gave in, following him into their bedroom, pulling off her coat and tossing it aside as he closed the door. James struggled to breath as he watched her unzip her dress, more and more of the skin of her back visible to him as the zipper slid down. His mind was already racing with everything he wanted to do, every place he wanted to kiss and taste, every change of pressure, of rhythm….

"I love you so much," he groaned as he traced patterns on her bare back. Lily shrugged the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders, which allowed it to fall from her body and pool at her feet. The dress no longer mattered. James forgot it existed as he eagerly touched and kissed the body of his wife.

/-/

Sirius got assurances from Remus that his eyes were on Caroline and Damon Prewett, who were playing at a romantic Valentine's Day, and he slipped away to Grimmauld Place and found Cara trying to sew. When her warm brown eyes met his, Sirius didn't bother saying even a word of greeting. He began peeling off his robes as she set aside her work, crossing the room to kiss him. He wasn't even sure what room he was in. It didn't seem to matter.

/-/

Blaise walked with Draco through the streets of Hogsmeade, heading toward the Three Broomsticks, and Blaise noticed Ginny Weasley was walking with a boy from Ravenclaw, Corner he thought the name was. Blaise didn't know the boy well, but he thought he was a disagreeable sort of person, rather self-impressed and sullen.

And although Blaise didn't know Ginny Weasley well, from what he did know through Draco's friendship with Catherine Black, the Weasley girl was vibrant, relaxed, game for a laugh. Blaise didn't think that was a date that would lead to a long and healthy relationship, and he found himself wishing ill on Corner.

"Oh, that doesn't strike me as good," Draco said softly, and Blaise turned to see where he was looking.

Catherine Black was walking arm-in-arm with the Weasley twins, laughing and saying something to one of them, and even Blaise had to agree. Regardless of it being Valentine's Day, Blaise thought that much mischief in one place was always a bad thing.

/-/

Cora pulled her jacket around her more tightly, feeling her heart pounding against her chest as she walked down to the grounds with Jimmy. She'd not told anyone, not even Natalie, that she'd begun to fancy Jimmy, although she thought Jason suspected. But here she was, walking with him on Valentine's Day, about to fly around the lake together. It wasn't the best of weather, but she didn't really feel the cold, just knew that it existed.

Jimmy seemed anxious, which was exciting to her. Was he as interested in her as she was in him? But if he was, why hadn't he asked her to do something more romantic, or maybe give her a card, even anonymously? Catherine received almost three dozen anonymous cards (although Cora knew at least eight of them were from George), and yet Cora had received none. She was quiet, yes, and not nearly as attractive, but it would have been nice to get one, if only from her brother.

Granted, she thought with a small smile, her brother was too busy jumping all around trying to please Caroline.

"What's so funny?" Jimmy asked, stopping them and setting his broom to mount it.

"Oh, nothing," she said, shaking her head. "I was just thinking of my poor brother."

"Ah," Jimmy said, laughing. Nothing else needed to be said. It seemed the whole of the school found it amusing, the way Damon was always at Caroline's fingertips, waiting and eager to serve her every whim. Cora found it amusing as well, but not simply because it existed, but because she could see Damon truly enjoyed doing it.

"Cold?" Jimmy asked, his eyes slightly wide as she went to mount her broom.

She wasn't, but she nodded, and he took off his scarf, wrapping it around her neck delicately and smiling before they got on their brooms and kicked off the snow-covered ground.

 **A/N: So, Harry's got a date with Cho, Damon's doting on Caroline, Ginny's stuck with Michael Corner, and Cora's on a "date" with Jimmy. Wanna see that date with Cho? It's coming up shortly!**

 **Review Prompt: Out of the dates just listed, how many do you think will last through the end of the story? Any? All? (okay, all but Harry/Cho)**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Make chapters longer. (basically every reviewer ever)**

 **A: Haha, unrelated by my robe sleeve just went over my tea when I was reaching for my phone. Another tea stain. Just thought I'd share.**

 **ANYWAY, I have chapters this length for many reasons, one mainly being that I know the average HP chapter in the actual books was around this length. Another that it's a pretty comfortable chapter length for novels as a whole. Some fandoms I do longer chapters – namely television fandoms – and occasionally I do shorter chapters as needed and practical, but this is what y'all are gonna get. I know you guys don't mean anything offensive by it. And I know y'all are trying to be helpful. But this is the way I'm going to do it. I've weighed it against the possible review dearth I might get by making longer chapters, and decided it's not worth sacrificing my principles on this point.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	78. Valentine: Part 2

**A/N: Sixteenth Bonus! A handful away from earning a seventeenth! C'mon, keep those reviews coming in!**

 **-C**

Harry wiped his hands on his trousers under the table of the teashop, and he smiled at Cho, silently sending all his positive thoughts toward Catherine, who had for some reason put together this date. Perhaps it really was thanks for being around her while she was taking up new habits. Although he hated to admit it to himself, though, he was beginning to enjoy and even crave those times together, sneaking off to do things he knew they really should never do.

"So," Cho said as they waited for their order, "what do we have planned for the day?"

"Erm, well, there's this," he said, shrugging and smiling. "And then I thought we could do whatever you'd like until lunch, and then I was hoping we could go to the Three Broomsticks. Everybody's going to be there, so it'd be nice to meet up with the others for a bit."

Cho frowned slightly and said, "Who's the others?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Oh, you know, everybody. Neville and Hermione are running around somewhere, and Kitty said pretty much the whole group was getting together."

"Did she?" Cho said, her voice going a bit higher, her shoulders going tight. "Right, well, if that's what you want to do."

It was what he wanted to do, but now Harry was wondering if maybe he was wrong to suggest it, so he said nothing about the fact he wanted to see what Catherine and the twins were so excited about at Zonko's, since he knew Cho wasn't going to want to go to Zonko's after lunch.

Their tea arrived and Harry had to be diligent to keep bits of confetti from falling into his cup. The place was really quite grotesque, filled with cherubs, confetti, and lovesick teenage couples where the boys looked either satisfied or very uncomfortable. Harry supposed he was probably in the uncomfortable category, and he wondered where Catherine and the twins were now. Maybe they'd run into each other at Honeydukes. He'd make his way to the Honeydukes' Best display first. If he was going to find her in that shop, it would be at that display.

Cho said nothing for quite some time when their tea first arrived, so Harry drank his, ignoring the cloyingly large amount of sugar in it. He didn't recall asking for sugar, but perhaps Cho had said something about that when she ordered for them? Or maybe the woman had asked and he'd nodded without listening.

Harry sat up a bit straighter as through the torrent of confetti rain he could see familiar figures outside the window. Catherine was walking by, laughing at the twins, her hair bouncing and her arms waving as she danced past them. Someone was watching her, coming closer to her, and when Harry saw that it was Cedric he frowned. She turned cold in an instant when Cedric greeted her, and Harry felt himself relax, although he wasn't sure why. Cedric seemed nice enough, but…not for Catherine.

When Harry looked away from the window, Cho's nostrils were flared and she was stirring her tea vigorously, not looking at him. He wasn't sure what, but he thought he might have done something wrong.

/-/

Brontes sat down in the library after eating a very quick lunch, and he saw a small group of Hufflepuff first years studying across the aisle. A very pretty girl he recognized as a friend of Caroline's was ignoring her whispering friends, and she got up to look for a book for whatever she was working on.

She had very delicate features, Brontes thought as she ran her fingers along the spines of books, nodding at each one she passed that brought her closer to what she was looking for. She was coming close to him, he realized, jumping up a shelf with her hand. His heart was pounding faster, and he couldn't explain why he'd done it, but he stood, crossed to her and said, "Excuse me, but what are you looking for? Perhaps I can help?"

She looked at him with the widest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen and said, "Oh. Thank you."

When she told him what book, they looked together, and he found it quickly, being familiar with the section from his own Charms essays. He pulled it off a shelf she couldn't have reached without help, anyway, and handed it to her.

"Brontes Lestrange," he said.

"Aeson's…brother?" she asked, and he nodded. As a friend of Caroline's, of course she would know Aeson.

"Yes," he said, not smiling at her, but wanting to find ways to keep her near his work. "Caro's my cousin."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Yes. Of course. Rose. Rose Zeller."

"A pleasure, Miss Zeller," he said, barely noticing that it was a Muggle name. Somehow Rose suited her.

"Please, you can call me Rose," she said, seeming uncomfortable with the formality.

But to Brontes, the formality seemed essential. He couldn't have articulated, even to himself, why it felt so necessary, but he knew it would be a very long time before he ever allowed himself to call her anything but Miss Zeller.

/-/

After what felt like an unbearably long time, Cho finally spoke again, glancing over to where Roger Davies was snogging some blonde Harry didn't know.

"He asked me out, you know," Cho said mildly. "When Cedric and I split, he was one of the first people to know. I thought about it. He's one of the few people who thinks I'm prettier than Catherine Black."

Harry frowned, wondering why she was telling him this. It seemed like such a strange conversation starter for a date. Was she trying to tell him something? Was she saying she regretted going on the date, and she'd rather be at that other table snogging Roger Davies? The blonde seemed to be quiet happy, and for whatever reason Cho did not seem to be especially happy. Was Harry supposed to hold her hand or something?

He really wasn't sure. Even when he wasn't sure with Catherine, he always ended up doing something, and regretted it or didn't. He never felt too confused to act like this.

Cho glanced up at him as he picked confetti out of his cooling, saccharine tea. She seemed to be expecting him to say something, but he really didn't know what.

"Even Cedric thinks she's prettier than me," Cho said, sniffing. "Do you know, that's why we broke up? He heard that she'd been injured this summer, and he dumped me on the spot, said it wasn't fair to be with me when he was thinking about her."

Harry wasn't sure, but he though it probably wasn't great behavior to drone on about ex-boyfriends during a date. If he'd droned on about other girls in a conversation with Catherine, she'd probably have hit him. Or hexed him. He picked a bit more confetti out of his tea and thought of the way Catherine looked through a haze of smoke, a cigarette carefully poised at her lips.

"Why won't you say something?"

"What am I meant to be saying?" he asked, frowning. "You keep talking about other blokes. I don't know what you want me to say."

"Well, it would be nice for you tell me I'm prettier than Catherine Black, for a start!"

"But you're not," he said without thinking.

And as soon as the tears began to gather in her eyes, he processed the words that had slipped out of his mouth, and his stomach dropped.

/-/

Ernie was surprised when Cedric sat down at their table at the Three Broomsticks, just staring at his butterbeer instead of going to wherever his friends were and interacting. Finally, Susan said, "Erm, Cedric? Is everything alright?"

He looked up to where Catherine Black could be seen passing the window on the arm of a laughing George Weasley, and Ernie realized what must have happened.

"I'm fine, thanks," Cedric lied, looking back down at his butterbeer.

Personally, while Ernie could understand someone being attracted to Catherine Black, he couldn't see that it was worth humiliating oneself over. After all, the only thing she'd ever been on that even resembled a date that Ernie could see was making Harry Potter take her to the Yule Ball, and even then she'd mostly just danced with her father. And Cedric, Cedric could date anyone he wanted, so Ernie really didn't understand his constant interest in her, the girl who clearly didn't want to date him.

Hannah glanced at Ernie and shrugged before she said, "Cedric, do you want to go to the sweetshop or something?"

"No," he said, a bit too quickly. That must have been where Catherine Black was dragging the Weasley twins. "No, I'm…I'm going to stay here and…and drink my butterbeer. But you guys go enjoy…whatever."

They left him, but not without quite a bit of concern.

/-/

Cho lost it when he said that, and Harry felt his own eyes widen as he realized it was actually true. Cho was incredibly pretty, but as he'd been realizing more and more lately, Catherine was beautiful in a very rare way. If he'd never met Catherine, he could have confidently told Cho he'd never seen a prettier girl, but he didn't think he could lie to her, even to flatter her.

"I knew it!" she said, almost a shriek. "Why did you even bother to ask me out? You're clearly in love with Catherine like every other stupid boy at this stupid school so why don't you just go date her?"

Date Catherine? She had to be joking. Even if he thought it were a good idea, there was no way he was going to risk his life and limb by dating Uncle Sirius's daughter, much less his princess.

"What are you even talking about?" Harry said. "I'm not in love with Kitty."

"You clearly think she's the most beautiful girl at the school," Cho gasped, getting louder all the time. People were stopping what they were doing to watch.

"Well, she is," Harry said, shrugging.

He was starting to be less horrified and more annoyed, and the shriek Cho let out caused even Roger Davies and his girlfriend to detach from each other and watch the fight.

"You two are always together," Cho said, slamming her hand on the table.

"Our parents are best friends," he said calmly.

"You sneak out together, even the paper says so."

He rolled his eyes and said, " _The Daily Prophet_ is not an authority on my life."

He couldn't very well admit she was right about that part, because giving her even a finger's hold in the fight would be a bit publically embarrassing.

"No doubt you think she's the most beautiful, talented, intelligent, funny girl at Hogwarts," Cho snarled.

"Well, she is," he said, realizing that it was true, but he didn't see why this meant he had to be in love with her. "I don't see why you're so upset."

"Well, why don't you just go have lunch with her, then, since you'd much rather be with her than me!" Cho shrieked.

"Maybe I will," he said, bewildered, as he pushed away his confetti-filled tea. "At least when she screams at me, I have a clue of what's going on." He strolled out, brushing all the bits of heart-shaped paper off himself as he left the teashop, hearing Cho shriek and sob, and strangely, he didn't feel sorry at all for what he'd just said.

/-/

Euan Abercrombie sat down on the common room floor with Jessica Shacklebolt and Ritchie Coote to finish some homework, and he looked around.

"Where is everybody?" he asked.

Jessica began listing off where everyone was, and when she said that Caroline and Damon were having a picnic somewhere in the castle like it was the most wonderful thing imaginable, Euan and Ritchie rolled their eyes at each other. Poor Damon.

/-/

When Harry stormed out of the teashop, he could see Catherine about to go into Honeydukes with the twins, and he gave her a long look. He didn't know how he would have described it. She saw him, said something to George, who nodded, and then hurried over to him.

"Let's get out of here," she said, giving him that smile that told him she had cigarettes on her. He sighed, knowing it was a bad idea, as usual, but it did sound soothing and he could use that right now.

So they walked to the foothills, where she pulled out a cigarette case someone must have gotten her, because she hadn't had it two months ago (he suspected George gave it to her for Valentine's Day along with about a dozen cards), and was about to pass him one when she lit it, closed the case, and passed it to him after a few puffs, the way she did the few times they shared a joint. Harry could taste something strawberry flavored on the cigarette, along with the nicotine, and it was strangely pleasant.

"You knew," he said, sliding closer to pass it back. Her graceful fingers brushed his in the process, and he briefly thought of how soft her skin was. "You knew it was going to be a disaster."

"Yeah," she said, shrugging. "Tried to tell you ages ago, but you wouldn't listen. You couldn't really see her, I guess."

"Why did you put me through this, then?" he said, frowning.

Catherine gave him a sad smile and said, "Do you really think you'd have stopped fancying her just because you hadn't the nerve to ask her out?" He shrugged. She was probably right. "Think of it like ripping off a plaster. Anyway, it's like when I…when I didn't want to talk. And you made me. It was the right thing, even though it was hard."

"Are you sure you're actually better?" he asked, frowning at the cigarette she was handing back to him. "Because this…this thing we're doing doesn't seem healthy."

She exhaled her smoke into his face, giggled, and he realized he was leaning closer to breath it in. He needed to stop doing that, but there was just something about this, he didn't seem able to stop.

"Harry, are you getting hurt?"

"Well, no."

"Am I?"

"N-no?"

"No," she said firmly, and she rested her hand on his hand. It was warm, soft. "And are you having fun?"

"Erm…"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Well, yes," he said, frowning. He shouldn't be, should he? He shouldn't enjoy this, and he realized that without Catherine he probably wouldn't. But lately, it was like she could lead him through a foggy mess and off a cliff and he wouldn't try to turn back. Like a siren, beautiful and sad and leading him into the rocks, and even though he could see them, he didn't seem to want to stop.

"And I'm certainly enjoying myself," she said, "so why should we stop?"

"We…shouldn't?"

It didn't sound right to Harry, but when she argued things out like this it all made perfect sense. Just like everything she said when they were on a marijuana high seemed like a good idea. Just like he'd follow her up every staircase, down every corridor, into any alcove. He realized for a brief moment that he was a Prefect supposed to be an example to other students of the best behavior and here he was, letting Catherine coax him into things he knew he shouldn't do.

"Harry, I was thinking we should try something really fun sometime."

A small alarm bell went off in his head that this was a terrible thing, a really horrible idea, and he didn't even know what it was.

"What kind of thing?" he asked, moving a little closer to breathe in the smoke she was exhaling, no longer thinking about whether he should stop doing that or not. He wasn't even sure how close together they were, just that he had moved closer.

"There's this potion, and if you soak cigarettes in it overnight it's supposed to be a really safe, really fantastic trip."

Trip.

That was the kind of word that worried him a little bit, remembering a talk his parents had with him about drugs. His dad had tried drugs as a teenager, although his mother never had. And his father had all kinds of scary stories.

"I dunno," he said, frowning. "I don't know that it's a good idea."

She raised a challenging eyebrow and said, "I'm going to do it with or without you, Harry. You can either join me, or be there to make sure I'm okay, or you can subject me to doing it alone."

Merlin, he couldn't let her be alone. And yet the word trip worried him so much. What if something terrible happened?

"Kitty, is it okay if whenever you do this…if I just smoke normal ones?"

She sighed, clearly disappointed with his choice, and she shrugged, turning away from him slightly. He put his other hand on her thigh without thinking about it to keep her from turning away, and he snatched the cigarette from her fingers, watching her eyes glow with amusement as he took a long drag and exhaled it slowly. This time, she was the one moving closer, breathing in his air until their noses were almost touching. Was it the smoke or her closeness that was making him feel so hot, that was making his heart pound like this?

"It's not that I'm afraid," he said, "but I know sometimes people have bad trips, and if you had a bad trip I'd want to help you, not be useless." Her eyes softened, and he knew she realized this was possible. He took another drag of the cigarette and she moved closer, holding her breath as she waited for him to exhale, and when he did and she breathed it in, then she breathed out in a sigh that tickled and warmed his lips.

"Okay," she said. "Mr. Chivalry. You can take care of me on normal cigarettes. Hey, Fred thinks he can get some firewhiskey. Want me to go get it, bring it back?"

He didn't want her to go anywhere while they were so warm and comfortable, but found himself nodding, thinking of the way the cigarette tasted when they were sharing it and alcohol, somehow sweeter still than when she'd been having sweets. He didn't mind the taste of firewhiskey anymore, nor the burn in his stomach, but he had grown to love the way it mixed with the cigarettes and the smell that was uniquely Catherine.

She left, leaving him with the cigarette almost as a pacifier, and for one brief moment he wanted to follow her, and when she was out of sight he could still feel that pull to follow her. Ironic, he thought with a drag of the cigarette, that he should feel that way even being led away from the rocks.

 **A/N: So, Harry's over Cho, Catherine's considering stronger highs, and Cedric and Cho are properly warned off the duo in their own ways…**

 **Review Prompt: Scale of one to twenty, how much did you enjoy the date? Because I frigging enjoyed the date.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will you provide us with the content of Draco & Harry's convo [at the Quidditch fight]? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Well, I won't write out the actual test because SOMETHING has to be open to the imagination, but I will say that Draco said some uncomplimentary things about Cedric's interest in Catherine and the…male attention she's receiving from other quarters. "Slut" or some synonym of it might have popped up. The thing is, Draco knows the best way to get under Harry's skin is to insult Catherine, and vice versa.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	79. Dueling Mishap

**A/N: As of now, this is the last Bonus for the week. But you can still earn more with more reviews!**

 **-C**

Ron was growing anxious toward the end of the school year, because between the impending O.W.L. exams and the way that Harry seemed to be disappearing all the time to do things with Catherine that no one else was invited to – although Harry insisted they weren't even kissing, much less snogging – and the way Gryffindor only barely managed to win the Cup, Ron was worn terribly thin.

So, the Dueling Club was turning out to be yet another way Ron was wearing thin. He knew there was a meeting coming up in a couple of days, but he was so distracted between his revising – thanks to Neville and Hermione – and trying to figure out just what it was Harry sometimes smelled of when he crept into the dormitory in the middle of the night, stuffing his cloak in his trunk and running his fingers through his hair.

Whatever it was, though, Ron supposed it was probably good for Catherine, because she seemed fully recovered from her disaster just a year before. Hard to believe that only a year ago, she'd been in a cot in the infirmary for ages, recovering.

Now she looked radiant again, glowing and laughing and smiling. George and Fred would sometimes look at her with concerned gazes, but everyone else seemed to see what Ron saw, that the trouble was past and she was recovered. Harry didn't seem concerned about her anymore, or rather seemed less and less concerned as time went on. By a couple of days before the last Dueling Club meeting, Harry seemed to be almost constantly relaxed, pliant, cheerful, pleased. Ron had even noticed he seemed to be wanking in the shower about twice as often. Ron felt a bit dirty, listening in, but he was curious to know if Harry was somehow fantasizing about Catherine.

Of course, Ron couldn't tell. He never said a name, but he'd lost all interest in Cho and he was definitely sneaking out at night, or between classes, or even once at the end of Divination, and almost certainly to see Catherine and do…whatever it was they were doing that was apparently not snogging.

Ron watched Harry glance around the common room before slipping out the portrait hole and he leaned in and hissed to Neville, "What is he up to with Catherine?"

"Nothing," Neville said, almost too quickly.

"No, but what's that smell?" Ron said.

"What smell?" Neville said, again, too quickly. "There's no smell."

Frowning, Ron said, "There's definitely a smell."

"No," Neville said, more firmly. "And there's never been a smell. Do you understand?"

Ron didn't understand, but he nodded, realizing whatever it was Harry and Catherine were getting up to, Ron couldn't ask anyone about it. Whatever it was, under no circumstances could it get back to her father, so Ron couldn't know it was happening.

He thought about going through Harry's things while he was out, but that seemed like a step further than listening while he wanked in the shower. A step too far.

/-/

Demelza Robins sat with her dormitory mates, Caroline, Ourania, Persephone, and Jessica, studying for their exams while they dried each other's hair. Demelza, Jessica, and Persephone didn't usually socialize with the other two, but they all got on well enough regardless. Caroline didn't like that Jessica liked to gossip, but she didn't really hold it against her, which allowed the girls to help each other, share things, and study together without too much fuss.

"I'm nervous," Persephone finally said, combing out Ourania's gingered locks carefully. "What if I fail something?"

"You won't," Caroline said lazily. "Exams are easy. Kitty said so."

Jessica's lips twitched. Demelza knew why. While they didn't think Persephone would fail, Caroline's elder sister wasn't exactly the best authority on whether or not things were difficult. She was notoriously talented, apparently something she'd inherited from her father, something Caroline had also inherited, and so exams probably caused them no stress at all. Still, it seemed to soothe Persephone for the moment, so no one commented.

/-/

The very last day of the Dueling Club, Caroline was buzzing. She knew it being the last day meant she wouldn't be able to go again for months, but Dueling Club was Caroline's favorite thing, especially now that she was beginning to learn Stunning, which was several years above her grade level. That was really the best part of being a younger student in the Club. They got the benefit of learning certain elements of Defense faster.

She'd been practicing Stunning, although they technically weren't supposed to be practicing outside of the club. She knew Aeson had been practicing as well, and Damon was happy to help her practice, if they didn't get caught.

The students in the Club filed into the Great Hall for the final meeting for the seventh years, and the final meeting of the year for the rest of them, and her eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces, and she saw her sister standing with her set and Harry's set, gossiping happily with Neville about something while Harry was watching her strangely. Caroline frowned.

Catherine thought she was so clever, sneaking cigarettes and alcohol, like no one knew. Caroline and Jason certainly knew, Neville probably knew, and Caroline suspected their father knew as well. Perhaps he considered it a normal part of growing up, or perhaps he was being delicate with her because of the summer she'd had.

"Right, we're going to have a bit of a relaxed day," her father said, after quieting the group. "Just pair up, we're going to warm up with Disarming, move into Stunning, and then we figured we'd give you a bit of a demonstration, or maybe let some of you seventh years strut for the younger students, show off one last time. We'll see what we have time for. So, pair off. Spread out. Be careful."

Caroline didn't have to point at Damon. He knew he was her partner, as he was always her partner, and he followed her as they spread out from the people around them. He looked anxious, glancing at his sister before looking back at her, giving her a nervous smile. Perhaps her father's words about being careful struck him as odd as they struck her.

Her father wasn't usually a paragon of care and caution. That was Uncle Remus's line, insisting they always use proper caution and care. Her father usually encouraged everyone to have fun, and Professor Snape was usually telling them to push themselves. She supposed that was what allowed them to work so well as a unit in this club.

"Disarming first," she said, smiling sweetly at Damon. "You start."

"I feel like we're too close to the wall," he said, shifting from foot to foot, but she sighed, offering to switch sides. He wasn't wrong. Her spells were often more forceful than his, and while he'd probably be fine, it probably wasn't worth the risk, especially after her father's comments about safety. After minor hesitation, they swapped positions and she smiled at him again.

"Right," she said. "You start."

/-/

Delora Quirrell could feel anxiety from where she was sparring with Aeson when Professor Black told them to switch to Stunning. The teachers were moving through the room, reviving those who were safely Stunned and correcting those who were unable to produce a sufficient spell, mostly young students like them.

Granted, Aeson didn't need correcting. He'd already Stunned her twice, and she was growing increasingly frustrated with how poorly she was doing at trying to Stun him.

He told her she needed to speak with more force, and so she tried to be more forceful, but her voice sounded more strained than confident. He told her to try loosening her arm as she did the wand motion, but her muscles wouldn't seem to tighten, and Professor Black came around to try to help her.

"You've got a good start, Delora," he said kindly. "You know that feeling when someone's wand is soaring at you because you've properly disarmed them? That kind of rush in the gut."

She shrugged, but she nodded, knowing what he was talking about, although she'd never have described it that way.

"I want you to think about that as you say the incantation. It'll help with the confidence. If you do one thing well, it can often help do the next thing correctly. Try again."

Delora took a deep breath, raised her arm, and focused on thinking about that sensation as she lifted her hand into the position, but a scream and actual fear in Aeson's eyes stopped her from saying a word.

/-/

Harry felt deeply horrified as he saw Caroline slumped against the stone wall, bleeding, unconscious, and Damon Prewett kneeling beside her, crying, desperately telling Uncle Remus he didn't mean to, that it was an accident. Uncle Sirius was rushing forward, and Catherine was about to dart that direction, but Harry grabbed her arm to hold her back.

There was nothing she could do to help, and it would only be distressing to stand over her sister and feel she was in the way.

/-/

Catherine was clinging to Harry as her father and Uncle Remus bent over Caroline. Professor Snape moved everybody back, and Uncle Remus moved Damon away from Caroline, although Damon didn't want to leave her side.

"Harry?" Uncle Remus said. "Can you and Catherine get Madam Pomfrey please?"

"Is she going to be okay?" Catherine asked as Professor Snape checked the site of impact.

"She'll be fine, Kitty-Cat," her father said, giving her a weak smile. "Sore, and a bit bruised, but she's going to be okay."

Catherine exhaled, let go of Harry, and they walked as quickly as they could without running up the stairs, to the infirmary.

"That was terrifying," she said, trembling.

"It probably wouldn't have been as scary if Ourania hadn't screamed," he said, frowning, and Catherine nodded in agreement. It probably wouldn't have been.

/-/

Jason and Catherine stood outside the infirmary while their father and Madam Pomfrey were taking care of Caroline, and Catherine paced the corridor. Jason watched her, thinking perhaps he should say something, but he simply watched.

"Is this what it felt like?" she asked, her voice tight. "Is this what it was like while I was in there?"

"Yeah," he said, watching her pace. "It's exactly what it was like."

Catherine paused and squeezed her hands together. She'd sent Harry away about twenty minutes ago, and she hadn't stopped pacing since.

Finally, Jason decided it was time to push the matter with her, to bring up what he'd been not talking about. He softly said, "Catherine, what are you doing to yourself?"

She frowned at him, opening her mouth, probably to tell him she didn't want him to call her Catherine, but he wasn't going to let her brush him off like that.

"Cigarettes," he said softly, "alcohol, marijuana, Merlin knows what else. Don't think we don't see. I'm sure even Dad sees, but he's afraid to push you and make things worse."

She just stared at him, breathing heavily in the corridor, perhaps about to explain something. Jason didn't want explanations or apologies, he just wanted his sister back, the way she used to be, before life decided to paint a target on her.

The door to the infirmary opened and their father smiled at them.

"She's okay," he said, gesturing for them to come in. "Just sore, like I said."

The pair hurried in and saw Caroline struggling with Madam Pomfrey, trying to sit up despite the matron's insistence that she lay back and relax. Jason smiled and Catherine actually laughed, and Caroline looked up at them, happy for a moment. Her face fell almost instantly, though, and she said, "Where's Damon?"

"His sister dragged him to the Gryffindor common room when he was declared well enough to leave the hospital wing," Catherine said, sitting on the edge of their sister's cot.

"Doesn't he know he's supposed to be groveling at my bedside?"

"Caro," their father chastised, although obviously amused.

"I'll let him know when I leave," Jason said softly. "He'd be happy to oblige, I'm sure. She really did have to drag him, Caro. He was still distraught, even when he was told you'd be alright."

Caroline smiled a little at this, finally relaxing back in the cot slightly, reaching for their father's hand. He came forward and held it, kissing it, the way he'd done quite a bit with Catherine while she was recovering.

"I am alright," she said, squeezing his hand. "It was actually exhilarating before I went unconscious, flying through the air like that. Too bad the spell didn't do what he wanted, or I would have been unconscious when I hit the wall."

"No, it's a good thing, darling," her father said. "If you'd been unconscious when you hit the wall, waking you would have been a great deal more complex and dangerous."

Jason found that interesting, but he wasn't about to prolong discussion about it. Although Catherine was outwardly calm, he could see from the way her toe was wiggling in her shoe that she was quite disturbed by what she'd seen and learned already, and he was worried she'd sneak off for another smoke as soon as she left here. He wanted to report her so someone would be duty-bound to stop her, but he supposed he'd let her sort out her problems for a little while longer without interference. Perhaps knowing people knew would help her get over this…rebellious streak.

/-/

By the time Laura got word that Caroline Black was well on her way to fully recovered, she had nearly forgotten what it was exactly that happened to the girl in the first place. It wasn't that the event itself hadn't been quite talked about, but exactly that it had been talked about, that muddled the waters. The Hogwarts rumor mill had been in full force, until even witnesses couldn't quite recall what had occurred.

"Jason says she'll be fine," Kevin said sitting down to study with Laura. "At least, that's what Rhea just told me. She said her brother's still pretty upset about everything."

"But it was an accident," Laura said, frowning. "And she's fine."

"Still, I imagine it was a pretty horrific moment, seeing your friend's head split open from your spell gone awry."

Laura crinkled her nose at the way he'd worded it, and frowned deeply. So terribly sensationalistic. She had already given her sympathies to Professor Black, which he had accepted graciously and told her that he'd gotten used to his children being injured, particularly his youngest. Still, she'd seen how pale he was as Madam Pomfrey levitated his daughter on a stretcher to the infirmary. Laura hadn't seen him after Catherine's incident the year before, but she couldn't imagine how he'd been then, given how out of sorts he'd been over something relatively minor.

"I suppose we should extend some kind of sympathies to Jason," Laura said, raising an eyebrow to Kevin.

"Already have," Kevin said, smiling. "From both of us. Figured you wouldn't mind."

/-/

Caroline was ready to put it all behind her, although she was certainly enjoying the looks of her peers, and the way they whispered when she walked past. She was starting, though, to become annoyed with the way Damon seemed to be treating her like glass, and how she caught him crying before breakfast one morning.

"I'm fine," she told him firmly. "I'm fine and I absolutely forbid you to feel bad about it anymore." He looked like he was about to argue in his passive way, but she gave him a stern look and he melted, frowning and nodding, following her down to breakfast.

Damon was clearly not feeding off the attention like she was, and he seemed to shrink with every set of eyes and whispers. Caroline sat down with him at breakfast and recognized he needed boosting, so she started preparing his breakfast, ignoring his mild protests as she piled marmalade onto his toast, tipped a healthy helping of kippers onto his plate, and told him to tuck in. She poured him some pumpkin juice and turned to her own breakfast, pleased that Damon seemed to relax as they ate and waited for their friends.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few bites of toast, pushing his plate away. "I'm just not hungry."

"Yes, you are," she said, pushing it back toward him. "You're just trying to be silly and chivalrous. I don't need you to. I'll tell you when I want you to be silly. Not right now."

/-/

Damon walked through life in a daze, but Caroline was surely alright. He could see her going through her days as she always did, except perhaps a bit concerned with him, which he judged from the way she was coddling him at breakfast. People were always whispering about them, and he hated the attention. He'd heard people say the very thing that he had so feared in the moment of the accident, and that had continued to burn as he waited to know how she was.

People whispered that he'd almost killed her – the early whispers being that he had, indeed, killed her. The regular reminder niggling at him that he'd made such a horrible mistake, that his inadequacy had almost done something so terrible…

"I don't know that I'll do the Dueling Club next year," he said weakly as they left breakfast, about to go to their last set of revision before exams began.

Caroline gave him a stern look that he so admired and said, "Don't be absurd, Damon. You're joining the club, and you'll be fabulous, even if I have to tutor you myself."

Even after everything, he realized with a burst of slightly ashamed pride, she still wanted him to be there. As afraid as he was of doing worse next time, he was pleased she wanted him there.

 **A/N: So, Caroline has a close call, Jason has a word with Catherine, and Sirius has another scare.**

 **Review Prompt: Favorite couple at this point? In a lot of ways, mine is Caro and Damon, so I'm hoping at least ONE of you picks them.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Harry and Kitty be a couple soon? (Asma20)**

 **A: YES. Patience, everyone. VERY soon. I promise. Want to get there sooner? Review!**

 **-C**


	80. Darkness

**A/N: You guys are stars. This is Bonus Eighteen! Still plenty of time to earn more this week, too.**

 **-C**

Ourania felt like a zombie toward the end of her exams, but she couldn't help feeling terrible for the fifth and seventh years, who were taking their major exams and looked terrible. Catherine Black actually put a plate of sweets in front of Harry Potter for the last of his exams, and he blinked at them for a minute before asking her what they were. He was apparently too exhausted to recognize what was on the plate.

"I'm a bit afraid of that," Damon said softly. "I think there's a very real possibility in that state, I would fail something."

Caroline just snorted and said, "I don't know why you're so worried. Exams are easy. Bigger exams are just going to be longer. That, and they give a huge amount of attention when you dazzle people with how brilliant you are."

"I think you're confusing normal people with yourself," Ourania said, rubbing her temples. "Those exams were not easy. I think your father's stuff about gave me a stroke."

"You're too young for a stroke," Damon said, frowning.

"Hernia, then."

"Do you even know the words you're using?" Caroline said with a laugh. "I bet Rose thinks they're easy. Don't you, Rose?"

Rose Zeller blinked up at them with her incredibly blue eyes and said, "I…I guess they're not so bad. Professor Black's really wasn't so bad. You just have to take good notes after class on what was discussed. He told us basically everything we needed to know for the test."

This was probably true, but Ourania didn't believe in notes, so she'd stubbornly not made any, either during or after class, and she'd stubbornly not studied her brothers' notes when he offered them up. Damon even thinking to loan her notes while he was so upset still about accidentally breaking Caroline.

"So," Caroline said, pushing aside her notes and smiling at them. "Who wins the House Cup, d'you think?"

"Gryffindor," Rose said softly. "I think the Quidditch Cup was the straw to break the camel's back. Ravenclaw's well out of it."

"But the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs still have a good shot," Ourania said, frowning. "They're all really close, aren't they? I mean, if somebody gets a bunch of points taken off it won't be so bad, but it doesn't even have to be a lot I guess. What, twenty, thirty points one way or the other? That could swing it."

Caroline gave her a look as if to say this would be an awful lot of points, actually, and this would take quite a stretch, after all, and Ourania just shrugged. It was good to see Caroline was still her old self, even with the head injury.

"No classes, left, though," Rose said softly. "No chances to earn points. So somebody's got to lose them. And I don't want to think about what would have to happen for Gryffindor to lose that many points before the end of the year."

Ourania didn't really want to think about it, either, because she wanted Gryffindor to win both, and since they were in the lead at present, if nobody lost a significant number of points, they'd be alright.

"Can we talk about something else?" Damon asked softly, frowning. "I mean, anything else, really. Like our upcoming exams."

"Don't be vulgar, Damon," Caroline said, giving him her usual stern look, which made Damon smile and nod, softening slightly. Ourania wondered if her brother knew he was head over heels for Caroline, or if he was just sort of blindly following her without realizing he was mad for her.

It was an interesting question, to be sure.

/-/

Draco walked out of his last exam, exhausted, and he saw Catherine waiting, anxious, coming up to talk to Harry.

"Kitty, what's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It's chaos," she said, glancing at Draco. "I don't know what started it, I wasn't there, but there's a bunch of fourth year and third and sixth year students dueling down the corridor. And most are Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"Damn," Draco muttered, gesturing for Harry to follow him. As Prefects, it was their responsibility to help break it up. He would have tried to send Catherine away, but he knew she would only be more intent upon following if he tried, so he just led the way, rushing forward and feeling his heart pounding in his throat.

He pulled his wand, hoping he wasn't going to have to use it, but he could hear the sounds of the carnage already, and they were still around the corner from it. When he could see spells flying, no one could hear him call out for them to cease. He exchanged a glance with Harry and they nodded, beginning to Stun student after student to keep them from hurting each other.

"Hey!" Catherine cried, and a Shield Charm went up, so powerful it actually pushed Draco and Harry back as several spells bounced off it, two from Slytherins deliberately targeting Harry.

But it didn't hold long, and Draco felt as though the world went in slow motion as Catherine hurried forward to cast something more offensive, and Draco realized, too late to stop her, she went right into the line of fire between a spell and Harry. He saw the Stunning Spell hit her chest, saw her body go limp, and saw her shoot back into the corridor wall as teachers began to circle.

Almost as soon as he saw blood trickling from her scalp and heard Harry cry out and rush toward her, Draco saw her father, just arrived, horrified at the sight of another daughter injured by a Stunning Spell, this time seemingly worse.

/-/

Sirius just didn't know how Cara could sit there calmly while Albus told them the prognosis, while Catherine was lying in a cot, pale and unconscious. While the words were sinking in: there was no way of knowing if Catherine would ever wake up.

And if she did wake up, they could not know if she would be the same.

"Damn it, Albus, I would think we've been through enough," Sirius choked kneeling beside Catherine's cot, kissing her hand, willing her to wake. He needed her to wake.

"I would agree," Albus said sadly. "And I believe Catherine has also been through quite enough. Would you like me to tell Harry, or would you like to tell him?"

Sirius's stomach dropped as he realized Harry was still pacing outside the infirmary, fearing the worst. When Cara said she'd tell him, Sirius pressed his forehead to his daughter's hand, glad. He would not be able to articulate.

/-/

Lily came to the castle as soon as she heard there'd been an accident, that Catherine was in a bad way. She knew nothing else when she arrived, and when she came to the infirmary Harry was sitting just inside, on the floor, trembling. Catherine was on the cot, and Cara was sitting at the foot of it, Sirius kneeling beside it and spreading tears and kisses on the back of his daughter's hand. Catherine looked remarkably pale, but there was a very slight sign of breathing.

"Coma?" Lily asked, touching Harry's shoulder before sitting on the ground beside Sirius, hugging him.

"Yes," Cara said softly, her voice calm but full of deep sadness. "No way to be sure what will happen. Even if she wakes up. No way to know."

Lily sighed, and she glanced back at Harry. It didn't take much to know Harry must have been the intended target of the spell, and as Catherine wasn't selfless, it was probably just a stupid accident, a matter of circumstance. But Harry was clearly horrified, shaken.

But Harry was young, and he hadn't been through everything Sirius had. If Catherine didn't wake up, she didn't know if Sirius would ever recover.

/-/

Hermione tried to calm Harry when he was forced to return to Gryffindor Tower for the night, but he was distraught. From the broken explanation of what happened that he tried to give while Madam Black joined him to tell her younger children, Catherine was hit with a Stunning Spell aimed at him, Stunned, and launched at a wall, like Caroline's injury, except she'd been unconscious at the time. It would be possible she might never wake.

"I need to be there," Harry said, allowing Hermione to hug him, ignoring the whispers of students who were watching. "Hermione, I need to be with her."

"Harry, they even kicked out her parents. Madam Pomfrey said they'd let you know as soon as there was any change, day or night."

But she could see this was not enough for Harry. He pulled a mirror out of his pocket and ran his thumb along the frame, staring at it tearfully.

"She has to wake up," Harry finally whispered. "She has to wake up. I can't…. She can't…." He gasped and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, but he hurried upstairs, and she turned to look at Ron with distress. Neville was still in the hospital wing, unconscious, from his own involvement in the duel, and Ron had to pick up the slack.

"I've got it," he said, hurrying up after Harry.

When she sighed, turning back to her book, Jason Black unexpectedly sat beside her, not saying anything, but simply pressing his lips together.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair, something she'd never seen him do before, and took a deep breath.

"I honestly don't know," he said, his gray eyes full of tears. "I mean, Kitty's given us some scares, but Mother said Dad is taking it hard." Jason pressed his lips together again before saying, "I know that means it's breaking him. I don't want to imagine what he'll be like if she doesn't recover."

"Chances?" Hermione asked nervously.

"The mind is apparently a complicated thing. And hers has already undergone considerable duress. So it's impossible to say." He closed his eyes. "Did you see what Professor Snape did when he found out what had happened and who had done it?" Hermione shook her head. "He expelled the student on the spot, a sixth year. His family is going to appeal to the governors, but Uncle Lucius won't yield. He'll have his wand snapped, whether she recovers or not."

Hermione only wished healing Catherine could be so definite.

/-/

Sirius felt sick to his stomach as he sat on his bed, staring at the door, just waiting for someone to burst in and give him some kind of news. He needed to hear she'd woken up, but he was also afraid news would be that she took a turn for the worse, that all chance was gone and she was gone.

Cara ran her fingers over his shoulder, trying to coax him to bed, and he closed his eyes, feeling her closeness and reminding himself to thank Albus, when this was all over, for suggesting Cara stay at the school while they waited. Sirius put his hand on hers, and he felt her lean in to kiss his fingers, his wedding ring.

"I can't do this," he whispered, as much to the darkness as to his wife. "I can't wait like this, knowing there's nothing I can do. That's our little girl, Cat. After everything…after…." He felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes and he inhaled a sharp breath to fight them.

"You can," Cara said softly. "Sometimes, Sirius, it's all we have. We have to wait and trust that things will work out the way they're supposed to be."

He wished he had her strength, but he could never think that way. Because how could he ever believe things were how they were supposed to be, that things worked out for the best, if Catherine never opened her eyes again?

/-/

Harry stood in the infirmary first thing in the morning, looking at Catherine, the slight rise and fall of her chest. She looked so small there, on the hospital bed, her eyes still closed, her beautiful brown hair billowing over her shoulders. Harry touched the edge of the bandage across her pale forehead, and he wished she hadn't done it, hadn't taken the blow, hadn't tried to step in and be a hero. He would happily take her place in this cot.

"Harry?" a soft voice said.

Neville. He was waking. He was waking, and probably for the first time, based on the potions he'd been given for recovery.

"Yeah," Harry said, shifting anxiously. "Yeah, it's me, Neville."

"Who are you with?" Neville groaned, trying to sit up. "Who's in the bed?"

"Kitty," Harry said, feeling a pain in his chest. "She's... She hasn't woken up yet. And... It should have been me."

"What d'you mean?" Neville asked.

Harry touched her hand, feeling a wave of nausea. It was still so cold. What if she didn't wake up? Professor Dumbledore had said that they should consider that a possibility. What if she didn't wake up? What would he do?

Harry realized he couldn't imagine a life without Catherine. The idea she might suddenly be gone left a hole in his existence he couldn't possibly fill. Who would fight with him over nothing? Who would push him to be the best at everything he did? Who would remind him continually where he was less than perfect? Who would stretch him until he felt there was nothing left to stretch?

She couldn't die. He couldn't let her die. He had to do something. She had to stay alive.

/-/

Remus struggled to focus on marking exams, but he was grateful they had a week until the feast. He wanted every day could have to allow Catherine to wake up before students went home, because Harry sneaking into the infirmary at night was good for Harry, and Remus was convinced it was also good for Catherine. He'd even used his influence with Madam Pomfrey to convince her to stop kicking Harry out every time she knew he was there, reminding her they'd known each other all of their lives, and Harry was sure to feel misplaced guilt.

A knock at his office door, and Remus pushed the exams away, grateful for any distraction from the mess in his own head. He told the knocker to enter, and he felt slightly surreal for a moment as Cara walked in. So much like her daughter did she look, Remus thought for the smallest of moments that it was Catherine walking in, and when he realized it was Cara he must have deflated slightly, because she gave him a surprised look.

"I'm sorry," he said without preamble. "Sit, please. Sit. How's Sirius?"

"He's a wreck," Cara said smoothly. "I'm sure you're aware."

Remus nodded. He couldn't fathom how Sirius must feel. Sirius didn't think he had a favorite child, and Cara supported this belief, but Remus was convinced Catherine was his favorite, whether he realized or not. She was only just starting to truly get better after her ordeal the year before, and now this.

"How are you?" Remus asked, smiling sadly.

Cara sighed, and she suddenly looked exhausted instead of smooth and calm, and Remus realized just how difficult it was for her, having to be the strong one while her husband fell apart, while her daughter was in a coma, while her younger children undoubtedly needed reassurance and support, while Harry ate himself up inside with guilt he shouldn't have to feel.

"Tea?" he said, already putting the kettle on and grabbing a bar of chocolate to split. Desperate times, he thought, frowning at having to split his last bar of Honeydukes' Best.

/-/

Colin sat silently at the lunch table, as they'd all been sitting of late. The empty space where Catherine should be with their group was conspicuous, but not nearly as conspicuous as the space where Harry would sit for about two minutes to put food in his mouth before hurrying back to the hospital wing.

"I don't suppose we'll have a normal meal until she wakes," Ginny said softly.

Of course, the unspoken pain was they still had no way of knowing if she would wake or if she wouldn't. There was still no way to be certain what condition she would be in from day to day, hour to hour, much less year to year. Professor Black had taken to having his meals in his rooms, with his wife, who was keeping him away from the infirmary except for twice a day, unless they had news of a change.

Colin supposed it had something to do with making certain Harry had space for his own rituals, and to keep Professor Black from spiraling into despair. What Colin had seen of him, he looked like the walking dead lately.

/-/

Ryana felt sick to her stomach, sitting in the Hufflepuff common room. After the dust settled from the fight, it was made quite clear Hufflepuff would be winning the House Cup, but it didn't feel like a victory. Catherine's empty bed, the constant whispers, and the way Cedric Diggory kept looking like he wanted to say something to Ryana before his friends dragged him off to cheer him up…. She felt like she was living in a nightmare, like Catherine had died but she was the only one who realized, and everyone else just didn't want to talk about the unpleasant thing.

Finally, Diggory sat down beside her, ignoring the calls of his friends, and he said, "Is there anything I can do?"

Ryana wanted to comfort him, because he looked like he hadn't been sleeping, but she knew Catherine wouldn't want his sympathy.

"No," Ryana said, wishing she could sound as firm as her friend. "There's nothing."

He nodded as though he'd expected this answer all along, and walked away. And Ryana felt terrible.

 **A/N: So, Catherine's in a coma, Harry's a wreck, and Sirius is shutting down. I actually wrote scenes of this and the next chapter before I'd written anything else in the story, so I'm super excited to share with y'all.**

 **Review Prompt: What kind of snack food do you reckon any three characters would prefer?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Kitty have a depressive/PTSD breakdown? (piatek)**

 **A: Not something clinically consistent with these titles, but she will not be unaffected by all the mess she's gone through, and will go through.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	81. Awoken

**A/N: You guys are blowing me away! I wake up and we've earned this bonus! I fully expect to have y'all earn another one or two today. Apologies if I'm not super-prompt, as I'll be away at work today. I would appreciate your prayers. It's an elementary school today.**

 **-C**

Harry watched Catherine sleep for the sixth night in a row, under the Invisibility Cloak, and he touched her hand gently, hoping she would wake. He thought about speaking to her again, but he was worried Madam Pomfrey might walk in and hear him. Harry's eyelids were just getting heavy when Catherine's eyes twitched. He blinked rapidly, sitting forward, touching her hand again.

She groaned his name, her eyes opening, and she looked around, puzzled. Harry pulled off the cloak eagerly, lifting up her limp hand. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he moved closer.

"You were," she began, confused.

"Relax," he said softly, smiling at her, feeling his eyes stinging. "Everything's alright, Cat."

She blinked, puzzled, and he quickly apologized, realizing the slip of the tongue. His whole mouth felt numb.

"No," she said. "No, I liked that. Daddy calls Mum Cat, sometimes. Harry, what happened?"

"You were hit," he said, watching her touch her bandage. "I...you were thrown into a wall. You've been out for days. They weren't sure you were ever going to wake up."

He saw a chill, a shudder pass over her eyes, and Harry felt a strange urge to comfort her, but he didn't know how. He wanted to...to...

"I did," she said, trying to sit up, biting her lip to try to hide her pain. Harry leaned forward, only fighting the urge for a very brief moment before he sat on the bed beside her, carefully helping her sit up, supporting her body by moving behind her, pulling her gingerly onto his lap and leaning her torso on his torso. The weight of her felt strangely pleasant, and he ran his hands up and down her arms trying to warm them. "Harry, what time is it?"

"Late."

"You're not supposed to be here."

"No."

"What are you doing?"

He realized she was asking about his caressing of her arms, and he felt his face burn. He closed his eyes. What was he doing, and why did he not want to stop?

"Dunno. You're still cold."

"Am I?"

Harry hummed and bit his lip as she shifted on top of him. His jaw twitched. She had just touched him in a way that nobody ever had before, her hand lazily tracing up his thigh, and he felt a strange stirring in the base of his stomach. It was pleasant, almost enticing, but he was afraid of it at the same time.

"Cat, when you're well enough," he said, knowing that Madam Pomfrey would keep her for a considerable amount of time, "d'you want to do something?"

"Something?"

She turned her head slightly to rest it on his shoulder. His pulse had sped up. He wrapped his arms around her. It wasn't so different to when they would lay down and she would rest her head on his chest or shoulder, but so much more of them was touching, and somehow it felt totally different.

"Yeah, like...go somewhere or...raid the kitchens or...something."

He didn't really know what he was asking, and Catherine didn't seem fully sure what he was saying, either, but she said, "That sounds nice. You'll visit me, right?"

"Every day, twice a day or more," he said softly. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew she would need rest, observation, time with her family. She felt so thin with his arms around her, like he might break her if he squeezed too hard.

/-/

When Dorcas sent Fabian a memo at work saying Catherine had woken up and appeared to be fine, Fabian felt a weight off his chest. He knew their children were greatly distressed by the incident, especially after the accident with Damon and Caroline, dragging all of that back up to the surface.

"We should get them…flowers or something," he said, showing the memo to Gideon, who nodded. "Let them know we're wishing her a speedy recovery."

"Teenage girls love flowers," Gideon said with a solemn expression. "I remember that well. Better send Sirius some firewhiskey, though."

Fabian hummed, knowing Lily had probably taken the rest of the day off to go back to the school. At dinner the night before, she said Harry had been taking Catherine's injury hard, even harder than Damon had taken Caroline's, and he hadn't even raised his wand at her. No doubt this was a difficult, fragile time for them, and he'd been dealing with the exhaustion after his OWLs.

He composed a quick memo back to Dorcas, letting her know he wanted to grab something for the Blacks on the way home from work, and he sent it off before returning to his rather depressing stack of paperwork he and Gideon would need to do before he could go home.

/-/

The news Catherine was awake and well spread through the school like wildfire, but Brontes was still anxious that she was not deemed well enough to come to the feast. Especially as he knew it would be something that would cause her no end of delight to see the Great Hall decked out in black and yellow.

Draco looked relieved as he sat down across from Brontes and Blaise.

"How are you feeling?" Brontes asked. "Have you seen her?"

"Briefly," Draco said, smiling. "She's fine, she's just the same. Her mother's with her right now. They're eating together in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey didn't want to, but I think she decided it was better than allowing her to come to the feast."

Brontes nodded. Aunt Cara would enjoy a bit of time alone with Catherine after the whole mess. Brontes hadn't had a chance to go see her yet, but he was planning to go up as soon as the feast was over, and if he got in trouble, he didn't really care.

"I'm glad she's well again," Astoria said with a small smile, a smile Draco shared with her, and Blaise shifted uncomfortably next to Brontes.

If it hadn't begun already, Brontes thought, smiling to himself as he helped himself to some food, it was beginning now. Draco was becoming aware of Astoria.

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Narcissa opened the letter from Cara and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the first line announced Catherine was well again. She set it aside for Lucius to see and made a mark in her diary to indicate the occurrence. She would have to set something up with Andromeda and Cara, as Sirius surely emotionally drained his wife during the whole ordeal. It would have to wait until after the silly Ministry function upcoming.

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Ryana was with Catherine when Harry hurried over to grab her trunk, charming it to be feather-light and strapping it to his own. Catherine thanked him, walking slowly, as though figuring out how to do it again for the first time. Ryana got the distinct sense she was being wished away, so she leaned over her own trunk as though looking for something in it.

"When I said we should do something," Harry said, softly, nervously, "I meant like…like a date."

"I know that, you silly boy," Catherine said, and Ryana could feel her ears burning. "Surprise me. Something when we're back at school?"

"Maybe," he said, still grinning when Ryana closed her trunk and looked up. "Your mother said we're spending the end of the summer holiday with you guys at Grimmauld Place again. There's apparently a bunch of political stuff your dad has to keep an eye on, so they don't want to leave London."

"Lies," Catherine said, linking her arm in Ryana's lazily as they all started walking again toward the carriages. "You know he just wants me close to the hospital in case I have some other catastrophe."

Harry's eyes darkened, but he shrugged, walking with a kind of spring in his step, like he'd won some kind of prize.

When he put her trunk in her compartment and hurried off to find his own friends, Ryana squealed and looked at Catherine, who sat down, tiredly. Catherine raised a perfect eyebrow and stretched out her legs. The others came in, and Ginny asked what Ryana was so excited about.

"Harry asked Kitty out and they're going on a date."

"About bloody time," Ginny said, sitting and flicking a bit of lint off her sock. "Reckon it's got back to Diggory by now?"

Catherine hummed and Luna said they could tell him if that worked.

They all laughed, and Ryana smiled, accepting her share of the sweets Colin was handing out, and they gossiped and chatted as the train took off from Hosgmeade.

There was knock at the compartment as the wilderness turned to countryside, and Colin opened the door to show Cedric, looking a bit nervous as he took in Catherine, looking a bit pale and tired, but otherwise healthy and recovered. Ryana was surprised to see him, as he'd been avoiding Catherine since February, but there he was.

He cleaned his throat, and Catherine looked up at him, completely uninterested.

"I see you're doing better," he said, smiling at her, but she didn't smile back. "I…I wondered if it would be okay for me to write to you."

She shrugged and said, "It's a free country, Diggory. I likely won't write you, so maybe you don't want to waste the ink and parchment, but it's entirely up to you."

His cheeks flushed and he hummed, like he was going to say something but lost the will or the words before he could speak. Catherine was looking at him with a kind of determined indifference, and eventually she said, "Could you be a dear and close the door before you walk off? Cheers."

He took a deep breath like he was going to say something, but then he exhaled slowly and closed the door, his footsteps retreating down the corridor.

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Pansy was surprised and a bit excited to see her father stop Professor Black and Lucius Malfoy at King's Cross Station, but when she asked her mother what they were talking about, the only answer she received was, "Business."

Pansy didn't particularly like the sound of that, nor did she like the way Professor Black exchanged a dark look with Lucius Malfoy at whatever her father said. She wanted her father to bring some measure of positive feeling to the Malfoy patriarch, else how was she supposed to be in contention for marrying Draco?

It was as if her father didn't care at all.

When her father rejoined them, she saw Catherine Black talking in a low whisper with Harry Potter, who was brushing a bit of hair out of her exceptionally pale face. Pansy frowned, still not sure if she was pleased Catherine Black was well or not. Not that she would wish the girl being dead or in a perpetual coma, but if the accident had changed the girl's attitude, Pansy wouldn't have necessarily lamented the change. The only thing that had appeared to change was everyone was even more interested in her, which was exactly what Pansy didn't want.

"Shame for that poor girl," her mother said with a soft sigh. "And after everything Sirius has gone through."

Pansy's father hummed and ushered them away, but Pansy felt mild indignation about her mother's comment. She couldn't see what the shame was. Catherine was perfectly fine and had even more attention. She was probably bloody pleased with herself.

/-/

Harry couldn't stop feeling excited as he arrived home in Godric's Hollow, still able to feel Catherine's soft hair on his fingertips as he watched his father levitate his trunk upstairs.

"Harry?" his mother said, and he nodded. "Your father and I have to go to this thing next week. We'll have to leave you home alone, but we were thinking you might prefer if you spent the hours at Grimmauld Place with the Blacks. You and Catherine are responsible enough, I hope, to watch her younger siblings?"

He felt his breathing go heavy as he thought of having the house effectively to themselves while their parents were out. He didn't know for sure what he thought they were going to do with that freedom, but he nodded and stretched his tingling fingers, trying to hang on to the sensation of her hair on his skin just a little bit longer.

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Euan Abercrombie regaled his mother with stories about school, and she asked him about the accident she'd heard other parents talking about at the station.

"Oh, that was Kitty Black," Euan said, frowning. "Her sister's in my year. She's fine now, but she got hurt trying to break up a fight at the end of exams. Her dad's Professor Black, my History of Magic teacher."

"Wasn't he your favorite?" his mother asked, changing lanes smoothly on their long drive back up to Scotland.

Euan then proceeded to tell his mother exactly why Professor Black had been his absolute favorite teacher.

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Lily sat down with James, who was going over the letter from Narcissa about the upcoming events, and she smiled to herself. Of course, she wasn't smiling about the stupid thing Fudge was summoning the major families to, but she was infinitely amused by the fact James hadn't seemed to notice the change in their son.

"You didn't see it, did you?" she asked, touching James's hand as she moved her chair closer to his.

"Hmm?"

"The look in our son's eye at the station, the change in his posture and attention span? Have you not seen it?"

James shrugged and said, "I told you being a Prefect would produce a positive change in him."

Lily smiled to herself, shaking her head. How could James be so intelligent and yet so completely clueless? Lily had certainly noticed the way Harry was looking at Catherine as she came into the Muggle part of the station, with that kind of reverence Sirius had when he looked at Cara, the look James had when he looked at her, the one Fabian looked at Dorcas with. Harry might not have even fully realized yet, but she was confident he'd fallen in love, and as it happened, he probably didn't realize how important Catherine was to him until he had a very real fear of losing her altogether.

It was remarkable, she thought, her smile melting slightly at the weight of memories, how the fear of loss could drive a man to changing his whole way of looking at the world.

"This is a total mess," James said, frowning. "If this is about what Narcissa thinks it is, Fudge has to be stupider than he looks."

"Darling, we already know he is," she said with a smirk. "But you're right. All of his power hinges on keeping the old families and war heroes happy, and if he pisses off Sirius, Rabastan, and Lucius in one fell swoop, he's over."

James ran his fingers through his hair, and Lily smiled, realizing Harry had done that while he was waiting for Catherine to come through at the station. Like father….

He looked up and said, "Lily, are you sure it's a good idea to leave the two of them as babysitters at Grimmauld Place?"

She raised her eyebrows and asked him why he thought it would be a bad idea, especially knowing if they were together they were less likely to sneak out to see each other.

"Well, it's pretty obvious they were making eyes at each other at the train station," James said, as though Lily had missed something in front of her face. "Do we really want to leave them in that big house where they sneak off and snog, or worse?"

Lily couldn't help it. She laughed. James looked affronted that she was laughing at him, but Lily climbed into his lap and felt his pulse race as she ran her fingers up his neck toward his ears. His pupils dilated and he inhaled sharply, just as it had been since they were still teenagers, falling in love in a time of uncertain futures.

She pressed her lips to his and didn't say the things she was thinking about how Harry and Catherine were still discovering they had feelings, much less acting on those feelings. She let James forget he had concerns through his desperation to touch her.

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Ritchie Coote arrived home, showed his exam results to his father, and assured his mother the rumors about a girl near to death were exaggerated, and Professor Black's eldest daughter was fine. He unpacked his things, started writing a letter to his school friends, and sat down in his bedroom, feeling a kind of empty loneliness.

He realized he wanted to go back to school, even if it meant having classes and essays and exams again. Nothing ever happened at home, as much as he loved his parents. He didn't have his friends, he didn't have snoring while he was trying to sleep, and he didn't have the drama of other people's lives surrounding him. He was immensely jealous of Damon Prewett all year, having ready-made friends, even if one of them was the bossy Caroline Black.

Deciding he wanted to give his parents a bit of time for him to settle back in, he wouldn't broach the subject of inviting friends over for a few days. It wouldn't be right to not allow them to believe they were the most important thing in his world, at least for a few years longer, and although Ritchie didn't have the exact thought, he felt it instinctively.

"Ritchie?" his mother called. "We've got dinner soon, and I've bought a cake."

He smiled, glad his parents were so pleased to see him, if only for the feeling of being celebrated when he arrived home in a way he never felt at Hogwarts.

"That's too bad on not getting the House Cup," his father said, setting down his exam report when he came downstairs, "but these scores are quite good, Ritchie."

He thanked his father, and accepted a glass of milk with relish.

 **A/N: So, Catherine's awake, Harry and Catherine have a pending date, and Fudge is doing something…stupid. I suppose that last one's not news.**

 **Review Prompt: What sort of date do you expect our duo to have?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why isn't Sirius as protective of Caro as he is of Kitty? (Emmy)**

 **A: If you mean about physical protectiveness, I would argue Caroline's catastrophes aren't as great as her sister's, as of yet. Especially as Caroline is a bit of a heathen, it's not surprising she gets injured a lot, in small ways.**

 **If you mean about boys… Well, there's something to be said for Catherine resembling her mother so much. Sirius was protective of Cara almost right away, because of her vulnerability and frailty. Catherine is also a representation of the end of the war, of the sacrifices he and Cara made, of a grueling and stressful stage of their life. If you think this is him being protective of Catherine, wait until you find out what he did on accident. ;) That's in Part 3. Let's just say, Sirius made a BIG oops.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	82. The Old King is Dead

**A/N: Sure enough, came home from work and there were enough for another bonus! You guys are amazing.**

 **-C**

Harry dressed to go to Grimmauld Place, and for the first time in his life he dressed in front of a mirror, changing shirts three times and trying to get his hair to behave for about five minutes before giving up, putting on his shoes, and hurrying downstairs to Floo to London with his parents.

Uncle Sirius and Aunt Cara were waiting when he arrived. Caroline and Jason were playing chess in the kitchen, and although his eyes scanned the room, Catherine was nowhere to be seen. Before he could ask, Aunt Cara said Catherine wasn't feeling well, was in her room. Harry must have looked momentarily alarmed, because Uncle Sirius assured him she was just tired.

"We don't know how long we'll be gone," his mother said, although he was only half listening. "You know all their bedtimes, and we'll come get you before we go home."

He hummed, and as soon as the adults left, he gave Jason a look that told his friend he was going to check on Catherine, and Jason nodded.

When Harry arrived at her bedroom door, he could smell the cigarette smoke, and he could feel his pulse racing. He knocked.

"It's me," he said, and he waited anxiously for her to tell him to come in. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she told him to go away.

Thankfully, she invited him in, and he stepped inside, quickly closing the door and struggling to breathe as he saw her sitting in perhaps the skimpiest dress he'd ever seen her wear, a cigarette delicately producing wisps of smoke from where it rested between her fingers. He hesitated, staring at her, but she motioned him forward, and he sat on the foot of her bed, taking the cigarette she offered him.

"I've been thinking," she said, laying back on her pillows as she watched him smoke.

"Hmm?"

"About my own mortality," she said, rolling her eyes and closing them. She looked like an angel like that, but it was also scary how much it reminded him of when she'd been unconscious, unmoving, unwaking, unaware.

Harry must have shivered, because she kicked him playfully and raised her hand for the cigarette.

"Relax," she said. She lifted it to her lips and took a long drag before she exhaled happily, sighing the smoke into the air. "I just think I should listen to the warnings you and Jason were giving me. I don't think I'll do anything harder than the alcohol and cigarettes after all. I scare you all enough just by living my life."

Harry laid down beside her, feeling his chest swell as she moved closer to him, turning her head so that he could breathe in her exhaled smoke.

"Why did you want to, anyway?"

Catherine shrugged, handed him the cigarette, and looked up at him with freshly opened, soft brown eyes. It was incredible to him, how brown they were.

"I just wanted to feel…out of control for a while," she said, frowning. "Like, I feel like I'm always in control, and I wanted to feel…that rush of helplessness."

That thought terrified him, given everything Catherine had gone through, but he didn't want to say so for fear of her changing her mind. He nodded as though he understood, and leaned closer as she propped herself up on her elbows to breath in more of the smoke he'd just inhaled. He wanted to kiss her, but he was too afraid. Instead, he just enjoyed the warmth of her breath.

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Ron scratched his chin as he walked with Ginny to visit Luna Lovegood. They didn't live very far apart, but their mother was a bit iffy about Ginny walking by herself. There was enough at the Lovegood house to entertain Ron, and give Fred and George ideas for their new joke shop, which they had been saving up capital for – with some generous loans from former teachers to help them get their feet in the door – and were opening in a week.

"So," Ginny said, grinning, "are you jealous of Harry?"

Ron's neck ached as he turned his head quickly to catch her smirk.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"He's got Kitty to agree to a date with him," she said in a sing-song voice, clearly meant to taunt and torture him.

Although Ron hadn't known this, he wasn't terribly surprised, the way Harry had been practically clinging to Catherine at every opportunity. And Catherine hadn't been pushing him away.

Ron didn't answer the question. He wasn't exactly jealous, but to say he was unaffected by the news would have been a lie.

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Lily settled into her table at the Ministry, pleased she and James were seated with Sirius and Cara, but Rabastan and Delia were at another table. She looked at the name marker next to hers and sighed.

"What?" James asked. "Not the Malfoys?"

"No," she said, frowning. "Parkinsons."

"Oh, fuck, why do we even have to be here?" Sirius said, rubbing his forehead. "That man is driving me mad! Do you know, he wants to draw up a marriage contract for Kitty? He doesn't even have a son."

Lily felt a strange chill in her chest at the thought of a marriage contract for Sirius's daughter. Who would even suggest such a thing? Amos Diggory might try it, but Sirius would never go for it. She supposed Madam Zabini might try it, but there was no way Sirius was going to agree to that one. Lily had half a mind to suggest they set up something between Catherine and Harry to alleviate the pressure, but if they put something like that into a blossoming relationship, it might choke it before they had a chance to grow. Especially knowing how capricious Catherine could be.

"That's bloody awful, mate," James said, frowning. "Don't worry, if they try to talk like that, I'll redirect. I've got some awkward stories from our youth that'll shut up any polite company."

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled, knowing at least they would have fun torturing the Parkinsons, if nothing else.

The couple arrived and Lily was struck, as always, by how Madam Parkinson's nose reminded her of a pug. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Madam Parkinson glanced at Cara with obvious jealousy, although it could have been jealousy over so many things.

"I haven't had a chance to say, Sirius," Madam Parkinson said simperingly, "how pleased I am your daughter has fully recovered."

"Indeed," Mr. Parkinson jumped in eagerly. "And might I say—"

"Hey, mate, remember that time in fourth year where we stole all the pants of the seventh year boys?" James said, grinning.

Sirius snorted into his water goblet and Cara looked askance at Lily, who tried to hold her composure as she nodded, recalling that particular occasion perfectly. The Parkinsons blinked, unsure of what to say or how to react. It wasn't in their social guidebook, talking about someone else's pants at the dinner table.

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Ginny, Luna, and Ron sat down while Mr. Lovegood made what passed for tea. Luna asked how they were, and Ginny gave an accurate report. They then told Luna about the store Fred and George were opening, which Luna had all kinds of questions about. She found it very exciting, and this perked Ron up, who had been sulking slightly since Ginny told him about Harry and Catherine and their still-to-come date.

"I think that's all very interesting," Luna said, thanking her father for the tea he had just placed in her hands. "Do you know, George must not know yet about Harry and Kitty and their date."

"How do you figure?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Well, when Kitty wrote me this morning, she mentioned George wrote her a letter, and she copied part of it. It was very romantic. I doubt he would have written all that, had he known."

Ginny actually snorted into her drink. That was exactly the kind of thing George would do. He knew Catherine was never going to date him, but they had a very flirtatious friendship, and he had no reason to think that was going to change.

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Catherine must have fallen asleep at some point, but she woke up when it was dark outside her window, Harry running his fingers lazily through her hair.

"Are they still gone?" she asked, sitting up slightly, ignoring the headache she got when sitting up too quickly since her accident.

"Yeah."

"Want some whiskey?"

Harry hesitated, but Catherine raised her eyebrows at him until she could see him wavering, and he nodded. She felt her lips twitched and she kissed his cheek before crawling over him, off her bed, and told him to light another cigarette, that she would be right back. She suddenly felt wide awake, and she hoped her parents stayed away for longer. She didn't have any plans, just wanted to enjoy this feeling of power and contentment for as long as she could.

/-/

Jason watched Catherine sneak a bottle of something from their father's safe and he frowned at her, but she gave him a wink and a reassuring nod and he made no further sign he saw as he moved his bishop. Caroline was taking all his favorite chocolate frog cards if he wasn't careful and didn't manage to win this match, so he couldn't afford to let Catherine's questionable behavior distract him.

"Poor choice," Caroline said in her most taunting voice, and he felt his shoulders tense, waiting for his little sister to strike.

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Lily relaxed slightly as they went into the social hour, although she noted James's tension as Fudge approached Sirius, while Cara sought out her brother. Lily thought about going after Sirius, scaring away the Minister, but she didn't have any good ideas on how, and it was only delaying the inevitable.

Sirius's face darkened as Fudge spoke, and finally, Sirius put up his hand and said something to Fudge, who seemed oblivious. Then, Sirius snapped, which was something he rarely did in public.

"Excuse me?" he said loudly. "You did not just suggest that I marry off my daughter, who has only recently recovered her health, to one of the cretins who attacked her."

The whole of the Ministry hall went silent. A few reporters were scribbling as fast as their quills would go. Cara's shoulders tensed, and Lily thought she saw Rabastan's nostrils flare as everyone's eyes turned toward Sirius and the now slightly nervous Minister.

"Well, I only meant it might go a long way to smooth over relations."

Sirius's eyes flashed, and anyone with sense would have taken a step back. She held her breath, and although Sirius's voice was softer than before, it could be heard so clearly in the silent hall, it almost echoed.

"Let me make something very plain to you, Fudge. You have absolutely no right to tell me how to raise my daughter. You have no right to suggest to me how to raise my daughter. You don't even have the breeding to breathe in her direction. Do you understand?" Fudge's mouth flopped for a moment, but Sirius wasn't finished with him. "You are in power because it is convenient for us to allow you to stay in power. And it's beginning to be a right nuisance for me. All it would take is a few more people to agree, if they're the right people, and I would end your political career like swatting down a fly. Mention my daughter again, in my presence or otherwise, and I assure you, I will bring you down single-handedly."

Fudge was bright red now, and Lily decided it was time to rescue the Minister from the situation by crossing over with a fresh water goblet for her friend. He accepted it without looking at her, seeming to know instinctively she was there. Fudge looked between the two of them, and he seemed astonished by the steely look in Lily's eyes as she frowned at him with disapproval.

She certainly hoped the boy who injured Catherine and his family were not wrapped up with the Parkinsons as well, because if that's what this was all about, their lives were going to get all the messier. Not that she thought Catherine was in any danger, but there was no telling what her adult male protectors would do to the idiots who kept trying to complicate her life to save face. Lily was positive Severus and Remus had already killed and probably tortured on her behalf, and she thought Rabastan and Sirius were not above it.

"Do you want to go home yet?" she asked softly as she led him away. "Say the word."

"No," he said with a grim smile. "That's not why we agreed to come, Lily. I want to stay long enough to let Fudge make a rope long enough to hang himself with."

She felt a chill down her spine, but from the look Narcissa, Cara, and Rabastan all shared as she and Sirius approached them, she realized this was the plan from the beginning. Sometimes, Sirius was the same man she had known most of her life, that she had laughed with at her wedding. But times like this, when she saw that dark look in his eyes, he was the Death Eater and pureblood who was a stranger she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

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Laura did not mind particularly having some time alone in the summer, and she was well and truly alone. She began some reading from books she ordered that were not necessarily her course books on the electives she was going to be taking come September, just to get a sense of what she had gotten herself into.

She settled down on her window seat in her bedroom, thinking of all the exciting things that came with starting her third year, including having access to Hogsmeade on select weekends throughout the year. She supposed she and Kevin would have fun exploring, and if there was a bookshop, that would be something to do. Laura couldn't imagine ever finding herself bored with a bookshop.

Her mother called out that it was past time for bed and Laura sighed, putting her light out and trying to read by the light of the moon. There wasn't much of a moon, however, and she ended up growling with frustration as she had to snap her book shut, calling it a night well before she was ready to sleep. Bedtimes seemed so superfluous after a couple of years away at school, where she could stay up reading books in the common room or under her covers or by candlelight in the toilet for as long as she wanted.

Soon enough, however, she knew she would be back in the world of constant expectations, and so she decided going to bed early for the moment wouldn't be so terrible.

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Caroline crept upstairs when Jason said it was time for her to go to bed, and she slowly opened her sister's door just to see what Catherine and Harry were up to. She was surprised to see an empty bottle of whiskey at the foot of the bed, an atmosphere of smoke around the room, and Catherine's head rested on Harry's chest, his fingers working through her hair with his eyes closed.

Feeling slightly guilty, as though she'd been the one caught doing something she shouldn't, Caroline carefully closed the door and hurried to her own room.

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Rose closed her eyes, feeling a chill run through her body as she stood in her back yard, enjoying the breeze. She wanted to believe she was sprouting wings and floating gracefully through the sky, but she decided it was too hard to imagine, so she wrapped her arms around her torso to ward off the chill raising goose pimples on her skin.

She heard her mother call for her, but she ignored the call for a few minutes longer. She'd gotten a letter today, unsigned, and it hadn't unnerved her, exactly, but it had caught her attention. It said surprising things about the loss of her presence that summer had brought, the loss of the ability to see her reading in the library, or to watch her laugh with her friends. Caroline would think it was creepy, certainly, and Ourania would think it was cute.

Rose didn't quite know what to make of it, but something about the handwriting caused her to not feel upset. In a way, she was almost flattered. But she would decide more firmly in the morning.

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As the night wore on, Lily began to realize what the method was. Sirius, Narcissa, Rabastan, and even Cara had begun spreading out into the crowd, socializing with the people who were most susceptible to their political pressures. Sirius had a soft word with the head of the Auror department after speaking to Fabian, and Narcissa and Rabastan began pulling aside the reporters who were at the event. Fudge seemed to be sweating through his robes.

"The ultimatum wasn't an ultimatum," Lily said softly to James as she watched a reporter's eyes widen at Cara's willingness to speak. "It was a trap. It was a dramatic moment to seal his fate. They're ending him here and now."

"Yes, they certainly are," James said darkly, frowning at Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror department. "The question is, will the man they replace him with be worth the effort?"

Lily hummed. A very good question, indeed. Still, there would be no real reform with a man like Fudge in power, and he'd only given them the ammunition to execute his political career with when he suggested marrying off Catherine to one of her attackers. She almost felt sorry for the man, or she would if she didn't know him.

Was she so callus she was almost pleased that Sirius was doing…this?

 **A/N: Long story. Meant to have this up hours ago, but I had to take my sister to casualty, and a simple head bonk was FOUR HOURS by the time we got out of there. Absurdity, I swear. Still, good alibi if I needed one for something, I suppose.**

 **So, Catherine has decided against psychedelics, Harry is utterly attached, and Fudge's days are so tiny there's not even a point numbering them because he's an utter idiot.**

 **Review Prompt: Do you think the Parkinsons were tied up with Fudge, or is there someone else considering the contract option?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How was Cedric warned off? (Asma20)**

 **A: Well, you saw the warning off on the train. Basically, think of Catherine's cruelest moment I've written. Then times it by about forty. She's a clever and cold enough girl she could destroy a man's ego with a few well-chosen words. Think the way Lily told off James in school, but worse.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	83. Long Live the King

**A/N: This is the last bonus from a whirlwind week! The next chapter posted today will be the regularly scheduled weekly update. Twenty-one bonus chapters in one week! You guys are beautiful. I don't know that we'll ever beat that, but I appreciate it.**

 **-C**

It took three days of surprisingly subtle press, pointed public appearances from Sirius and Rabastan, and what James suspected was work within the Ministry to prepare the way, but three days after the embarrassment of Fudge, Rufus Scrimgeour succeeded him as Minister of Magic.

Lily and James were not especially surprised, but Harry started reading the paper for the first time, with mild interest. This tickled something in the back of James's mind, and for the first time he asked his son if he'd given any thought to what he wanted to do with his life, especially now he was selecting his NEWT subjects.

Harry shrugged and said, "I guess I just want to do Quidditch."

James raised his eyebrows at Lily, who shrugged. Harry would inherit enough money to not have to worry about having a life-long job, and he certainly had the talent to play professionally, maybe even for England. James would have liked to play professional Quidditch, if the world had been different when he left Hogwarts. But by the time the war was over, he'd moved on and the sporting world was looking for younger talent, and the ship had effectively sailed.

"Hey, Dad," Harry said, looking down at the article again, "this isn't really about Cat, is it?"

Lily almost dropped the mug she was washing when she heard Harry use Sirius's old nickname for Cara, and it took James a moment to realize his son was actually talking about Catherine.

"Probably not," James said, glancing at his wife. "But it does have something to do with her, anyway. I think it was just a good opportunity."

Harry frowned at the paper, perhaps realizing for the first time how ruthless his godfather could be. James didn't think this should be a real shock, considering how ruthless Catherine and Caroline had both proven themselves to be, on a smaller level.

"I was thinking we could go to the park today," Lily said brightly, obviously sick of thinking about the political climate. "Do you know if it's meant to rain?"

"Not until the evening," James said, scratching his head and watching his wife stretch as she finished washing the last of the dishes. It was amazing to him, how after all these years he still took every opportunity to watch her, and how easy it was go to from watching her to fantasizing about everything he would do when they were alone. Proof, he supposed, about how wrong Lily had been in school when she said he'd get bored of dogging her eventually and he'd move on.

Harry hesitated like he was going to ask if he could stay behind and James internally panicked about his son trying to sneak off to London to see Catherine again, but Harry then asked if they could do a picnic lunch and James relaxed. The three of them prepared the lunch together, and James saw a slightly raised rectangular shape in his son's pocket that was not his wallet.

James didn't have to ask. He recognized it from years of friendship with Sirius as a cigarette case, and James had suspected Catherine and Harry had begun experimenting with various substances as he and Sirius and Remus had done at their age. For a brief moment he thought about telling Harry how dangerous it was, and to quit, but if Sirius had ever told James to quit something Lily was doing, it might have been the end of their friendship as they knew it, so James decided not to get between his son and a girl. That could only end badly. Harry was a relatively good kid, and he'd be okay. He had enough of his mother in him that his choices were usually good choices.

"I'm thinking we should pack a thermos of tea," Lily said as she made the egg salad.

"I'll put the kettle on," James said, kissing his wife's cheek and taking one glance back at Harry's pocket before doing just that.

/-/

Astoria had to get creative with hiding things, because she knew if Daphne found out not only that Draco and Astoria had been writing since the end of term, but also if she read Draco's letters that Astoria was keeping, Pansy and Daphne would make Astoria's life hell, and rather prematurely. They weren't courting. They were just…flirting. By letter.

He was actually quite sweet and thoughtful, and he had shared with her his dreams and aspirations and fears. She appreciated his desire to eventually become Minister, but by working his way up and proving his worth in the Ministry, and not through the machinations of family. He could easily have it just by pulling the right strings, but Astoria thought it was admirable he did not want to win this way.

At least, not win a career this way.

She might have felt disappointed there were no tokens of affection or sonnets composed to her beauty, but Astoria was not a sentimental girl, and she understood the position he was in. She knew he thought her beautiful, but to start out writing such things could only escalate to eventual vulgarities, and a man in his position could not be found to write vulgarities, even if it was to a girl he intended to court.

With careful fingers, she folded the latest letter from Draco and slipped it into the small stack at the back of her panty drawer, knowing it was one of the very few places her sister would not bother looking for hidden things.

/-/

Although Sirius did not like spending more time around Lucius than he had to, he liked for Draco and his children to see each other outside of school, and Narcissa couldn't always come to Grimmauld Place, especially during the summer when her social calendar was so stacked. And what with replacing the Minister, they'd all become quite a bit busier, so Sirius ushered his children up the walk to Malfoy Manor for lunch, feeling a sense of hatred toward the house in his stomach as he thought of all the memories he'd rather forget.

/-/

Cara greeted Narcissa with a kiss on the cheek and they all settled at the table, Catherine and Draco rather clumsily seated in the middle of the table, with Lucius at the head of the table and Sirius at the foot, where he very obviously did not want to be.

Knowing Lucius well enough by now that she understood his moods and machinations, Cara recognized quite quickly he was up to something, and Sirius's very calm expression told her he had recognized the same thing. Draco and Catherine began talking quietly across the table, and Cara sat up a bit straighter, folding her hands in her lap, irritated she couldn't hear what the gossiping was about.

"Isn't this lovely?" Lucius said, smiling his slippery smile. "Our family, together, complete."

"Hardly," Sirius said darkly, frowning across the table.

The unspoken reminder that Narcissa's sisters and Sirius's brother were not there for various reasons rang on the air, but Lucius seemed determined to ignore it, to keep the tone going in a certain direction.

/-/

Narcissa had reached the point where she was about ready to curse her husband when he finally showed his hand, and she thought Sirius was going to explode, especially after everything with Fudge.

"It seems to me that we have a very similar situation on our hands, Sirius," Lucius said in full earshot of everyone at the table, which was certainly the object of putting Sirius at the far end in the first place.

"What situation is that?" Sirius said with deceptive calm.

"I am quite aware of your pressures to create a contract for Catherine, and I am struggling to find a worthwhile candidate for a contract for Draco."

Catherine dropped her fork with a clatter, but neither man took notice of her horrified expression, staring each other down across the table. Narcissa spared Catherine a glance and was struck anew by how much she resembled her mother. Had Lucius not learned from Bellatrix's regular attempts to control Cara's life? Or had he forgotten?

"I am sure you'll find someone," Sirius said coolly.

"Oh, but perhaps there are some very good candidates, close to home," Lucius said, lifting his water goblet and looking pointedly at both girls. "You have two very eligible daughters, and Catherine is sure to cause you some difficulty in this matter."

This time Draco dropped his fork, and Narcissa saw that her son had turned pink, looking at his cousin with disgust and horror.

"Father, please," Draco said earnestly.

"Daddy, there's no way I'm marrying Draco," Catherine said urgently.

Sirius raised his hand toward his daughter, still looking at Lucius, and Narcissa wanted to intervene, but there was no way she could do this without injuring the pride of either her cousin or husband, and possibly both at once.

"I think you're mistaken, Lucius," Sirius said softly. "I have no intention of making a contract for my daughter, regardless of who she ends up marrying, and if she should decide to go the traditional route of courtship, she'll be old enough for the gentleman in question to initiate the contract for himself. I also sincerely doubt our children would be well-suited. Cissy, shall we have tea now?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Narcissa said, beaming.

Sirius's words were clear enough, his tone, his gaze, so reminiscent to how he'd spoken to Fudge, that the message under the words could not be lost on any of the adults at the table.

Mention this again, and you can be ended as easily as Fudge, family or no.

While Narcissa did not like her cousin threatening her husband, she sympathized with Sirius, and she'd made similar threats to keep Lucius in line during the end of the war and the early days of peacetime. Perhaps it was always going to be trouble, Draco coming of age, but she hadn't fully considered just how difficult it would truly be with Catherine in account.

Cara volunteered to help set up the tea, and the two women hurried into the next room.

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said softly. "I didn't think he'd be that daft about it."

"I suspect he rather thought Draco and Kitty would like the idea," Cara said with a small smile. "Lucius is a bit…out of touch."

Well, that was putting it kindly.

/-/

Cora flipped through her sister's books, trying to get a sense of what her elective courses would be like. Rhea had said that she had full access to any course books she wanted to look at, which Cora fully appreciated. She thought she might write to Natalie, see if she was getting anywhere on the research she was trying to do in preparation for next year's History of Magic curriculum. There were a few things Cora found in Rhea's notes which might be useful.

"She didn't!" Ourania squealed with delight.

Cora rolled her eyes. Damon had gotten another letter from Caroline Black, practically a letter a day since they'd started the break, and he eagerly wrote her in reply as if by some sort of compulsion. Ourania found the whole thing endlessly entertaining, but then, it was better when Ourania was entertained then when she was left to find her own entertainment.

"Are you in there?" Rhea's voice asked, knocking gently at the door.

"Yup."

Rhea came in and raised her eyebrow and asked if Cora had any extra ink.

"Damon's used the last of mine," Rhea said when Cora asked why. "He's desperate for more. You should see the size of some of these letters he's writing to Caro. It's like…what is there to even say? They're twelve."

Cora shrugged, passing Rhea an unopened bottle of ink, prepared to never get it back. She supposed but didn't say that there was lots to say when you thought you were in love.

/-/

Catherine and Draco hesitated in the foyer while their fathers argued loudly in the next room.

"It's not that I don't think you'd make a good wife," Draco said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't worry about it," Catherine said, shrugging. "You'll be a good husband for…whoever. Did you not know Harry and I are…kind of seeing each other?"

He raised his eyebrows, telling her quite plainly that he hadn't realized, or if he'd heard he hadn't taken the rumors as seriously as he ought to have. He hummed and said softly, "To be honest, I think I…I think I like somebody."

Catherine grinned, nodding him on.

Draco hesitated, licking his bottom lip as he glanced toward the door that hid their fathers from sight. He leaned in and whispered, "I've been writing to Astoria."

"The Greengrass girl?"

He nodded.

Catherine didn't know the Greengrass family well, although they were related to her by marriage through her Aunt Delia, but her father didn't fully approve of Delia's brother, so they hardly ever saw anyone else from the family. What she did know of Astoria was that she was quiet, a bit bookish, very much the prettier sister, and she was between Catherine's year and Jason's year.

"Bit young for you, isn't she?" Catherine teased, grinning as Draco blushed again, rolling his eyes as they waited.

/-/

Delia was one of the first to hear about Lucius's putting his foot into things with Sirius over a possible marriage contract with Draco and Catherine, and she felt disappointed on two fronts. For one thing, she rather liked the idea of Draco marrying her niece, Daphne. But on the other hand she wanted to entertain the idea Brontes would marry Catherine.

But if Lucius was looking that high up the social strata, it might be difficult to convince him Daphne was worthwhile, and if Sirius was so opposed to Catherine marrying a second cousin, Delia doubted that he would support her marrying a half-cousin. Although who was left worthwhile that Catherine was not closely related to, Delia couldn't imagine.

She began to scheme other possibilities for her children, still entertaining the idea Aeson and Caroline were a possibility. After all, those two were likely to do something foolish like eloping together someday, anyway. Delia was convinced they were made for each other despite their constant bickering.

Rabastan thought she was silly, but it was really only a matter of time.

He would see. They would all see she was the one with the foresight.

/-/

Knowing when Lucius would next be out of the house, and knowing the arguments Sirius and Lucius had over the matter, Narcissa sat down at her writing desk and invited two people to have tea with her next Tuesday. One letter was sent to Grimmauld Place, especially addressed to Cara and in a code only the two women used, to tell Cara she was not to discuss any of it with Sirius.

The second was mailed to Severus, who was the most discrete advisor Narcissa knew.

/-/

Zacharias Smith explained to his father he had every chance of being the Hufflepuff selection for Prefect, and his father asked who was likely to be the female selection. Zacharias sniffed, frowning. He knew who it was bound to be whether she deserved it or not, and he said, "I suppose that'll be Catherine Black."

His father perked up and said, "Sirius Black's girl?"

Humming in response, Zacharias picked up a book to avoid the conversation. Why was it adults and teens alike had such a fascination with the Black family? Even the newspapers couldn't get enough of them. He supposed it was the strength and length of their family line, but he didn't think Catherine Black was particularly special.

Pretty, sure, but not special.

Talented, maybe.

Not special.

"Well, that could be interesting," his father said thoughtfully. "Pretty?"

Zacharias sighed and said she was.

"Intelligent?"

Again, Zacharias had to agree that she was, and he cringed inwardly at the scheming look in his father's eye. The last thing he wanted would be to have his father ask him to show interest in Catherine Black. He'd rather swallow acid.

/-/

Cara turned over the letter from Narcissa and ignored Sirius's question about what his cousin wanted. She ran through the code they rarely used in her mind and realized that whatever they were going to discuss, it wasn't something she wanted Cara to necessarily discuss with Sirius.

"Cissy wants me to come for tea," she said with a small smile.

"Is that coded?" he asked, grinning at her.

"We get bored, darling," she said, not exactly lying. "Sometimes it's nice to encode our letters. Keeps our minds fresh. Imagine if all you had to look forward to was an endless string of teatimes and charity luncheons."

Sirius shivered and Cara set the note aside, knowing he wouldn't bother trying to decode it. He was far too lazy, and he trusted her completely. She enjoyed watching his eyes as she stood from her writing desk and unclasped her nightgown. His breathing changed visibly and his eyes widened as the fabric billowed to the ground, pooling at her feet. He sat up to meet her as she walked to the bed, and he sighed running his hand up her neck, pulling her into a kiss before he ran it back down her body.

He murmured desperate words of love and desire against her lips as she began sliding her hand up his bare chest, and she allowed herself a single thought of how he wouldn't think of the note again before she threw herself entirely into the enjoyment of his body against hers. Far too infrequently did they have this pleasure, and she would savor every last exhausting moment of him before September stole him away again.

 **A/N: So, Lucius is the prize idiot (which we knew), Draco is heading toward courtship, James knows about the cigarettes, and Narcissa holds a private, semi-secret meeting about the machinations of her husband.**

 **Review Prompt: Imagine a meeting between Severus, Narcissa, and Cara on the matter of Lucius's most recent stupidity. What sort of solutions might they turn up?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why did Sirius take a job that will take him away from his family most of the year? (Asma20)**

 **A: I suppose this is more a puzzle because I didn't write the early years after the war. Sirius didn't spend as much time there before Harry went to Hogwarts. He would use his study for marking and planning, came home on the weekends and even some weeknights. He was at every birthday, Christmas, Halloween, Anniversary, etc. He went to society events with Cara when he could swing it, and he even took off time when Catherine was sick as a child. Caroline and Jason had stronger constitutions and were never seriously ill in youth, but he always visited in evenings when one of his children felt poorly.**

 **When Caroline graduates, he'll spend more time away from the school again, with his wife, but for the moment he wants to be where they are – and it's probably a good thing for the physical integrity of the building and the sanity of the other teachers that he stays on site with the…antics of his children.**

 **And you know Sirius. Always has to be where the action is.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	84. Complex Solutions

**A/N: This week's regular update is dedicated to reader/reviewer** _ **I'manAmericanHorrorStory**_ **. I appreciate your enthusiasm and joy about the story, and long may it continue! Guys, we're over halfway there!**

 **-C**

Narcissa and Cara arrived at Spinner's End with ceremony and Severus ushered them in, gesturing vaguely to his kettle, knowing Narcissa would want to make tea. He hadn't bothered putting together anything for them. They would only tell him he'd done it wrong and do something themselves. He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and sat down in his study with Cara, while Narcissa readied the social matters to her liking.

"Lucius blundering again," Severus said, shaking his head. It wasn't as though they hadn't expected Lucius to be semi-regular trouble as time went on, with his old-fashioned beliefs and the way the world as he wanted it was shrinking every day. Severus just hadn't expected him to be so daft as to attempt to take on Sirius on such a matter.

"Naturally," Cara said, flicking a bit of silky dark hair out of her eyes. "Kitty loves your classes, Severus. She's looking forward to taking the upper levels."

"She could do anything she wanted in Potions," Severus said, pondering the dark liquid in his glass. "Granted, she must apply herself and stay out of trouble, but I believe she is bound for great things. I suggested her to Pomona as a Prefect."

Cara seemed pleased with this, and Severus had little doubt Catherine would be selected. No one else even made sense.

"May I ask whom you've selected from Slytherin?" Cara asked, not especially slyly. She wanted to know about her niece, certainly.

"Rolland Harper," he said as Narcissa levitated a tray in. "And Adrasteia, of course. She could be a better student, but I have many worse."

"Talking prefects?" Narcissa asked with a smile as she sat and began preparing Cara's tea. "Lovely. Now, Severus, if Lucius were to do something…completely stupid, what sort of ground would he have to stand on?"

He found it amusing that she, a pureblood from one of the oldest and most significant families in wizarding history, was asking him, a Half-Blood, for advice on wizarding customs and their legal basis. He accepted his tea and frowned at her.

"If Sirius does not make a contract for her, technically Lucius could force the issue. There are enough old laws that could compel the…purchase of a wife of suitable birth. However, I believe I can think of a few ways to make certain Lucius will not be so foolish."

Narcissa gave him a fierce and furious look, and he almost laughed. He assured her he would not threaten the life or limb of her husband, and he said, "There are ways of doing this without forcing her to marry anyone. Lucius cannot force the issue if there is even a drafted contract, unsigned, on file, although it would have to be someone of age. Someone who would be trusted not to not wish to marry until Draco has a contract or until Catherine is ready to wed, or elects to draft a true contract. Also, someone who could be trusted not to change his mind and not relent in marrying her."

Cara and Narcissa both pondered these words as they sipped their tea. Cara sighed and set down her cup.

"Well, if we pick someone who's just graduated, it will be less obvious what we're up to, but…"

"But Diggory wouldn't necessarily step away if he had a chance to marry her," Severus said with a nod, "and many other students wouldn't, either. Others might, but they may also wish to live their own lives. It is a lot to ask of a young person, to put their life on hold to help Catherine."

"Whom do we know who's single?" Cara said, frowning. "I mean, Remus, but I think his condition might be a bit… limiting legally, isn't it?"

"It is," Narcissa said, smirking as she looked up at Severus. He took a drink of firewhiskey to keep from swearing. He knew exactly what she was thinking behind those cold gray eyes, and it was the whole reason he'd spent three hours looking for a different solution the night before. To no avail.

/-/

Ravenclaw Anabella Whitehorn sighed, waiting impatiently, as she had every day since summer vacation began, for her next Hogwarts letter, telling her she had a list of books she was meant to read, and what to expect and what to purchase, etc. She had already read all the books in her personal library, and her mother wasn't keen to buy her more if she was just going to be buying books for classes.

She combed her fingers lazily through espresso curls, trying to think of ways to pass the time when all she wanted was to go back to school. She had played all the games she knew how to play by herself, and there were only so many letters she could write to Cherise when neither of them was doing anything particularly interesting.

They read the news, of course, and Cherise kept a careful eye on it. Apparently Caroline Black's sister was in some way responsible for some major political change, but Anabella really didn't understand how it had anything to do with her, who was Minister of Magic. Still, Mother assured her it did, and that was that.

Anabella decided to take another bath, since it was something to do, and if she was lucky she might fall asleep while in there, pass a few extra hours. She grabbed a towel and found some oil for her hair after the shower.

/-/

Sirius raised his eyebrows as his wife suggested this plan to him, this horrifying plan that was all the more despicable because it actually made sense. He wasn't sure how Catherine would take it – although she would probably be endlessly amused – but if Cara thought it was a good idea, well, at least it gave Severus an excuse to keep a closer eye on her.

"Just…don't let him gloat," Sirius said mournfully. "He'll think it's hilarious that he'll be loosely engaged to my daughter."

Cara rolled her eyes, but he knew she understood. She always understood.

/-/

Philip Whisp and Troy Derek met up at the Whisp house in Kent, out in the middle of nowhere where they could do a bit of pick-up Quidditch. Troy didn't care much for Quidditch, but he humored his friend. They knew that it wasn't a very fair match-up, but they didn't mind. Troy just liked to have someone to be around, and Philip liked someone who didn't mind being walloped at Quidditch frequently.

"Think we can win the cup soon?" Troy asked as he watched Philip toss the Quaffle between his hands.

"House Cup?"

"Quidditch."

Philip snorted and shrugged. Definitely not until Harry Potter graduated. He was almost certain Potter would be the new Gryffindor Captain, and he had good Quidditch brains to go with his talent. Not to mention all the talent to go with his own in that stacked team.

/-/

Catherine was sat down by her parents, and she was surprised when Professor Snape walked in, sitting down, completely expressionless. She figured it must have something to do with her brewing future, perhaps a change in her extra lessons, or some kind of internship.

"Kitty-Cat," her father said with strangely sad eyes, "I'm sure you're aware that there's some…interest generated in your marital future."

"Obviously," she said, smiling, very much confused why Professor Snape was here for this. "Please tell me you're not caving to Uncle Lucius and marrying me off to Draco."

She sounded very casual, even to her own ears, but she was silently very anxious her father was going to marry her off.

"Basically," her father said wearily, "we've found a loophole that will keep all the craziness at bay until you're ready to decide who you're going to marry. It involves making a contract, putting it on record unsigned, and we need it to be someone who isn't going to make life difficult by actually holding you to contract, or somebody who's going to want to get married before you've found someone to marry."

"Ah," she said, glancing to Professor Snape, realizing with amusement why he was here. He was going to be betrothed to her, sort of. He'd certainly scare away any boys her father didn't – excepting Harry, who wasn't allowed to be scared away at this point – and he'd be able to keep an eye on her safety without being…creepy about it if he was betrothed to her.

Jokingly, she said, "I don't have to kiss him, do I?"

Her father groaned, and her mother smiled and Professor Snape simply raised an eyebrow coolly as she stifled a laugh. Well, it might be entertaining.

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

"Nothing, really," her father said, running his fingers through his hair. "We'll file the necessary paperwork, and I don't suppose there's a family ring or something she'd have to wear?"

"Not unless you want her wearing the Prince ring," Professor Snape said darkly. "It's not cursed, and not overtly offensive."

"Well, if she likes it, she may as well," her mother said softly. "Some people might need a visual reminder. She could always wear it as a necklace if it's awkward on her hand."

He said he would bring it by, and Catherine was already practicing in her head the chat she was going to have with Harry as soon as she was done here. He'd probably be freaked out by it, but she knew whatever hold she had on him, he wasn't going to run away. Even if he thought about it, she'd draw him back in again without too much difficulty.

She walked Professor Snape to the door, and he said, "I want you to know, Miss Black, I do this because I feel it is the best choice for your well-being."

"I know," she said, looking him directly in the eye and thinking about all the things he'd done for her, including the things she supposed he'd done to Igor Karkaroff after her attack. His face made the slightest change as he watched her face, and he nodded slowly. "I really am grateful, you know."

He nodded, and she thought about hugging him, but decided better of it. Especially now, with the idea of a contract – unsigned or otherwise – it didn't seem appropriate, and he wasn't a hugging sort of person. Maybe on her wedding day, she thought cheekily, and he bid her a good day.

/-/

Harry felt his pulse race as his mirror buzzed, and he forced himself to take a breath as he pulled it out and hurried up to his room, ignoring the question from his mother about when he wanted tea. Catherine was amused about something – he could tell from the glittering in her dark eyes as she looked up at him from the mirror.

"Hey," he said, trying to force his voice a bit lower.

"You'll never guess what's just happened."

He nodded her on, and she explained the mess with people forcing her parents' hand, putting her in a sham unsigned marriage contract to keep her legally protected from predators until she decided what she wanted for marriage. It seemed reasonable, but when she told him to guess who she was betrothed to, he realized it wasn't him, and that made him feel momentarily panicked.

"Please tell me it's not Diggory," he said weakly.

She wrinkled her nose and said, "Gross, no. They wanted it to be someone who wasn't actually going to cause a fuss and try to force the contract. You'll love this, it's hilarious. I'm engaged to Professor Snape."

Harry began coughing, horrified as he thought of Catherine wearing a ring marking her as belonging to their teacher. She was finding the positives, but he wasn't so sure yet how to feel about the matter.

/-/

By the time the Potters were moving in for the remainder of the summer, two days before Harry's birthday, Catherine knew he was melting slightly from being bothered about her strange sort of betrothal. She purposefully put on the shortest skirt she owned, and she waited until she heard her mother greeting Aunt Lily at the door to come down the steps. She saw how wide his eyes were as he watched her approach, and Catherine wondered what sort of thoughts were running though his mind. She was almost afraid to find out.

"I'm sure you have things you'll want to do," her mother said, and Catherine gestured for Harry to follow her, which he did with remarkably swift steps, swallowing as she plopped onto her bed, stretching out her legs. She watched his face carefully, gesturing for him to join her. She enjoyed teasing him, but she didn't want to be cruel.

"So," he said, with a nervous laugh. "You're taken now. Does that mean no date?"

"Not a chance," she said sternly. "We won't be able to get away with anything with our parents swarming, but I expect a date when we get back to school."

"I know," he said, smiling. "I've already got it partially planned. Will I be able to borrow the Map for that?"

Catherine nodded, toying with the idea of pulling out a cigarette to coax him to move closer to her the way he always did. He seemed to be holding back, and she wanted to cuddle.

"I haven't grown a second head, you know," she said playfully, gesturing to her pillow. Harry licked his lips, grinned, and followed her back onto the bed, looking down at her face as he moved closer, obviously thinking of kissing her, but holding back. She touched his neck, caressing it until he leaned forward to lean into her touch, and then she touched her nose to his jaw, breathing in the smell that was uniquely Harry. She could hear him inhale sharply as she breathed on the sensitive skin of his neck, and his fingers moved to her hair as they so often did.

"What would you say if Daddy walked in right now?" she asked, feeling a giggle in her throat that she didn't let out.

"Fuck, I don't even know," he groaned. He leaned back to look at her, his eyes searching her face like he was expecting to find the answer to her question in her eyes or forehead. "I'm just sort of hoping that doesn't happen and…and…."

"And what?" she said, teasing, as she traced a finger down his throat, scraping her fingernail slightly on the skin over his Adam's apple.

He leaned closer, obviously afraid of finally kissing her, so Catherine sat up slightly and met his lips before he could react, before he could pull away. His lips were dry and warm, and his breath tasted of spearmint toothpaste, which was mildly pleasant. The hand at her hair twitched when their lips touched, and he breathed her name onto her lips before kissing her again. And again. And again.

/-/

Jason and Caroline pooled their resources – mostly sweets they had purchased but not yet eaten – found some old unused parchment, and decided to make charmed drawings to turn it into wrapping paper.

"Do we have a box?" Jason asked.

Caroline frowned.

"Do we need a box?" she asked, scrunching her nose.

Jason shrugged. Usually, his birthday gifts had boxes, and he noticed it made them easier to wrap, but he supposed it wasn't strictly necessary. After a bit of digging, they found an old box of a bulk-buy of chocolate frogs under Caroline's bed, and it was only just big enough to hold everything they were stuffing in it. Jason used some Spellotape to seal it, and then they began to decorate the paper.

"What d'you think they're doing up there?" Caroline whispered.

He knew she was not referring to their parents and Harry's parents, but Harry and Catherine. He didn't really want to think about what they might be doing, especially if they were feeling bold. Jason supposed he'd have a harder time looking at them together without wanting to gouge out his eyes if he spent too long thinking about what they were doing in Catherine's bedroom.

"Probably just smoking a cigarette," he said softly, knowing even their parents knew about the cigarettes and alcohol by this point. If they were going to be busted for them, they would be by now.

Caroline nodded, her quill poised over the parchment. She frowned.

"What do I even draw?" she asked. "We can't really draw things that are going to get them into trouble, can we? They'd never let us forget it."

"Just draw Quidditch and Gryffindor stuff," he said with a grin. "I reckon that's safe. Can you draw a lion?"

"I can certainly try."

/-/

Lily walked with Cara up to her bedroom that first night and glanced toward Catherine's room, nodding.

"Does Sirius know?" she asked, and she saw Cara's lips twitch, which showed quite plainly she knew exactly what Lily was talking about.

"No, he's blissfully ignorant," Cara said, continuing walking down the corridor. "I expect Severus knows."

Lily frowned, puzzled, and before she could ask what this meant, Cara launched into a lengthy explanation of how Sirius's daughter came to be nominally engaged to Severus Snape. Lily laughed, leading Cara into the bedroom that was always hers and James's when they stayed at Grimmauld Place.

"God, he must have taken some serious convincing," Lily said.

"Which one?" Cara asked with a slightly cheeky wink that reminded Lily a bit of Catherine. "No, Severus all but suggested it himself. I think he's quite protective of her, and you know he never lets up on a chance to make Sirius slightly dependent on him."

Lily hummed, and she wondered if she should let Harry know they knew, just to keep him from making stupid mistakes.

On the other hand, having seen the way he looked at Catherine when they arrived, the way she simply had to smile and crook her finger and he was rushing up the stairs after her, not to be seen again for the rest of the day…. Lily figured there was nothing she could say that could give him any sense of restraint if Catherine was calling.

 **A/N: So, Catherine is kind of engaged, Severus is kind of engaged, and Harry and Catherine have KISSED! You're welcome.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you expect Severus to…handle the Harry/Kitty relationship during the engagement?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Are Ron and George over her, or will there be some jealousy there? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Well, to say they're over her by this point is not quite accurate, but jealousy would be a strong word. George has definitely seen this coming for a while (he's very perceptive) and never harbored any real belief she would be his. As for Ron…he'll move on. He has a pairing. ;)**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	85. A Comfortable Torture

**A/N: This bonus is dedicated to reviewer** _ **T1p2**_ **, whose reviews this morning prompted the bonus! Cheers!**

 **-C**

James was astonished with how oblivious his best friend was about the behavior of their children. James had seen Catherine teasingly bump Harry's hand at meals, had seen the way Harry froze and stared at her whenever she entered a room, had noticed they would disappear to one of their rooms or the attic for hours at a time, sometimes even skipping meals. James was far from naïve. He knew what they had to be moving toward, even if they weren't actually getting up to it yet.

"I'm a bit concerned," he told Lily on the morning of Harry's birthday.

"About?" she asked, pulling off her nightgown, temporarily distracting him.

He cleared his throat, shook his head, and looked away from his wife's body as he said, "Hormones. There's an awful lot of hormones going around this house."

"Well, two married couples under one roof," she teased, selecting a dress. "Bound to be a problem."

He sighed, glancing at her again as she pulled on the dress. That was another thing, he realized. Catherine was purposefully wearing her shortest skirts and dresses. If Harry was anything like him, legs were going to drive him crazy.

"Not our hormones," he said, pulling on his jeans. "I mean, not that those aren't constantly on my mind, but I was thinking more like our son's hormones, and possibly Kitty's as well."

She sighed, shook her head, and said, "James, Sirius is totally oblivious. Blissfully and possibly willfully ignorant. I don't think they're having sex yet, if that makes you feel better."

"How can you be so sure?" he demanded.

"Because Jason told me Harry only asked her out after she woke up from her coma, and there were no signs of them even kissing before that, so the odds of them already having sex are quite low."

He hummed, but he wasn't fully convinced. He knew how the minds of most teenage boys worked, and Harry was his son. He recalled the things he fantasized about Lily when he was Harry's age, and they'd not even started dating yet. She'd not even agreed that he was fully human for another year and a half. Theoretically, Harry and Catherine could be having sex within a couple of weeks, if they hadn't already started.

Should he give his son the talk? Did he want Harry to know he knew? Would it make a difference in how they behaved, for better or for worse, if he decided to give his son a sex talk? And should he, as a Marauder, tell his best friend Harry was probably snogging his daughter in various corners of the house with their cigarettes and alcohol and predilection for risky behaviors shared?

How much did Sirius not know?

But given Severus was technically betrothed to Catherine now, of all the strange things in the world, James supposed this would put of the fear of Merlin into Harry that he wouldn't make totally terrible choices, things that couldn't be reversed. To have to answer to both Sirius and Severus on the matter was enough to make James feel like he was about to wet himself. And James and Sirius were practically brothers.

But then, James knew what those men were capable of much better than Harry could possibly imagine.

"Should we say something to Sirius?" James said, nervously.

"He'll find out eventually, darling," Lily said, frowning. "Best let their relationship develop naturally before he jumps to all kinds of conclusions and overreacts."

James frowned, narrowing his eyes at his wife.

"You want them to get married, don't you?"

Lily just smiled at him, and he found his frown melting into a smile in return. He had to admit, it wouldn't be so bad, tying the families together properly.

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Laura felt she could breathe a sigh of relief when her letter came from Hogwarts. She knew she would be going back, of course, but that wait until she had the letter and list in hand was always so excruciating. Her mother put a note on the calendar to say when they would go to Diagon Alley, having to fit it into her work schedule, and then for Laura the waiting game began again, forcing her to count down the days until she could get her school things. She supposed she could start packing now, but then she would have nothing to do while waiting for September the first.

"Darling, if you just stare at the calendar all day every day, I'm just going to send you with a friend and not bother to take you."

Laura looked at her mother, horrified. Would she truly keep that threat, which would mean no special trip to get ice cream together once all Laura's books and materials were gathered?

That didn't seem very motherly.

"I promise I'll find something else to do," Laura assured her mother, and she hurried to her room, looking around it anxiously, trying to find something, to think of anything to keep her mind occupied.

And then she saw blank parchment. And then she saw unused ink. A smile came over her face as ideas began to flow through her mind.

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Harry went straight to the attic after breakfast, where Catherine was already sitting by the window, the sunlight catching her hair. He sat at her feet, resting his head on her knee as he had taken to doing when they sat in the attic. Her fingers ran through his hair lazily and he closed his eyes, entranced and afraid of how strange and good that felt, to have her fingers touch his scalp.

"I suppose I ought to wish you happy birthday," she said softly. He hummed his acknowledgement.

As soon as he'd been alone with her, he'd quite honestly forgotten his birthday, just so eager to be close to her as possible. If all he had was the soft skin of her knee on his cheek, he'd take it a million times over.

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Rose read her letter from Hogwarts, made a list that she pinned to her mother's corkboard of things to do and buy, and she wrote letters to Caroline and the Prewetts, asking if they knew when they'd be going to Diagon Alley. It seemed unlikely they would all go together, but Rose did like the idea of at least going with one or the other, if it worked out.

She suspected going with Damon and Ourania would be more likely, and she was careful to address the note to both of them.

Her mother came in from watering plants and said, "What's this, darling?"

"Shopping list for school."

"Oh, you got your letter?" Her mother looked over the list, nodding to herself absently, obviously trying to think of how much it was all going to cost. "Let me know when you'd like to go and we'll see what we can do."

She thanked her mother and grabbed a book to take to the park.

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Lily watched Harry and Catherine sit at the end of the table, opening their letters as they whispered to each other. Catherine squealed in surprise, which drew everyone's attention, including that of her very eager father.

"Did you get it?" he asked, rushing over to her. Lily tried to fight the twitching of her lips as Harry held up his own Quidditch Captain's pin, grinning.

"You're a Prefect!" Sirius cried, kissing Catherine's face. "Tomorrow we'll have to have a huge party for you, darling."

"Tomorrow?" Catherine asked, turning the badge over in the light.

"We have Harry's birthday tonight," her mother said softly, smiling. "How are your test scores, Harry?"

He shrugged, said he passed everything he needed, and then Catherine snatched the scores from his hand, reading them carefully, rolling her eyes a couple of times before she said, "He got Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Daddy, he barely passed your test."

Sirius shrugged and said as long as he didn't fail. They were all fairly certain Harry wasn't going to go on in anything where he would need History of Magic, so it hardly mattered. Harry passed his mother his book list. He would be going on in Potions, Defense, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Charms. She mused that he could get a quality Ministry job with a schedule like that, provided good NEWT scores, but it was unlikely. And with how fickle and capricious the Ministry had proved itself to be over the years, she wasn't sure she'd want her son working for them, anyway.

"I'm going to pass everything," Catherine said haughtily, pinning the Prefect badge to her chest to get a sense of how it looked. "I reckon Ginny and Rhea got them as well."

"Colin, too," her father said, running his fingers through her hair, kissing the top of her head. "We'll have to set a day for school shopping. We can think of that later." He kissed her head again. "I'm so proud of you, Kitty-Cat."

"Thanks, Daddy," she sighed, twisting so she could kiss his stubbly cheek.

Then she raised an eyebrow at Harry and he followed her upstairs so quickly, he left his letter and badge sitting out on the kitchen table without a glance backward. Cara and Lily exchanged a look, as Sirius was clearly still oblivious. Lily snatched up the badge and letter and set them in her pocket to deposit in his room when she was sure he wasn't in it with Catherine. The last thing that needed to happen was for her to walk in on them doing…Merlin knows what.

"That's a lot of responsibility," James said, looking at Sirius as the other children scurried off to play Exploding Snap. "Think Kitty's going to be up to it?"

"She's up to anything," Sirius said with a slight sneer. "What are you trying to say, Padfoot?"

"Well, our children do happen to be trouble makers," Cara said, raising her eyebrows and sitting on Sirius's lap, which caused his expression to instantly soften. He kissed her cheek and hugged her to him.

"So?" he asked, still not getting where the cause for concern was. Lily just smiled, shaking her head at those silly Marauders.

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Astoria got a letter first thing from Adrasteia Lestrange, gloating about being selected as the Slytherin Prefect for her year. Astoria rolled her eyes, knowing there hadn't been much in the way of competition. Professor Snape hadn't selected Adrasteia because he thought she was anything special, but because he had to select someone, and he knew her father's expectations would keep her more or less in line.

Still, Astoria wrote a quick note of congratulations and sent it off.

"Bloody hell," she heard her sister squeal, and Astoria nearly broke her ankle, slipping on the bottom stair at the sound of the shriek.

"What is it?" their mother called, hurrying forward as Daphne came out on the landing with a letter in hand.

"It's just…I've got a letter from Pansy," she said, pale and shaking. "Catherine Black is engaged."

"Really?" Astoria asked, frowning. She hadn't thought Professor Black would be the type to agree to contracts.

"An unsigned contract," Daphne said. "Her father told her. It's…it's disgusting."

"What?" their mother pressed. "Who?"

"Professor Snape."

Astoria's jaw dropped, and her mother's eyes went wide. For the first time, Astoria understood her sister's dramatic reaction, and she was surprised when Daphne sat on the top step and said, "I almost feel sorry for the girl."

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Lily sat down at her son's birthday dinner and noticed how distracted he was, how he kept sneaking glances at Catherine whenever he thought her father wouldn't notice. Lily smiled to herself, wondering what Severus would say when he would have to see his prize student carrying on with James's son. In a strange way, it would be insult to injury all over again, now they were technically engaged.

She had to excuse herself when a case of giggles overcame her at the thought of Severus's inevitable reaction.

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Sirius and James set a day for taking the children to Diagon Alley, although they didn't expect for the children to go on a designated day without much argument. Surely, Sirius thought, they'd want to go with their friends and see all the faces they'd be spending all year with. Particularly, Sirius expected Catherine to throw a small fit.

To his surprise, she did not argue when he gave her a date, so he supposed her friends had already given her a date and it matched. She said that would be fine and gestured for Harry to join her upstairs.

He had a feeling they'd broken into his liquor again, probably firewhiskey this time. He couldn't argue. He'd been sneaking alcohol from various places for years by her age, and they were mostly responsible children and hadn't been hospitalized for alcohol yet. Just everything else. They had plenty to celebrate, he supposed.

/-/

Following the sounds of her daughter's giggling, Cara decided it was time she found out just how far things were going. She poked her head into the attic and saw Harry and Catherine sitting on the floor, Catherine holding a bottle of Sirius's firewhiskey, half-consumed. Cara watched her daughter press her face into Harry's neck, and he leaned his head back as she kissed the skin, closing his eyes and sighing.

Cara watched for several minutes, but Catherine and Harry did not touch or kiss anything below the neck, and mostly just cuddled together. It was sweet, even cute, and she felt she'd invaded her daughter's privacy enough. She left the attic and hurried to Catherine's room, frowning as she walked in, smelling the cigarettes lingering on the sheets. It was irritating Catherine had picked up one of her father's most worrying habits, but Cara supposed of all the acts of teen rebellion to choose, there were many worse. Cara was a bit concerned Catherine was dragging Harry in with her, but perhaps his presence would keep Catherine grounded.

Lily was making a cup of tea before bed when Cara wandered back down to the kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Where are they?" Lily asked casually.

"The attic," Cara said, rubbing her forehead. "There's nothing going on but kissing and very light petting above the neck. Although the way he looks at her, I'd be surprised if he doesn't last the year before that changes."

"I suppose I was not much older than them when I first slept with James," Lily said with a sigh. "Come to that, it wasn't too much after that when you and Sirius first met."

Cara hummed, smiling to herself as she so easily recalled the way Sirius's hands on her thighs on the sofa of that flat, the desperation in his eyes as he tried to restrain himself when he so clearly wanted to make love to her.

Strange to think their daughter would find herself in a situation like that soon. Cara supposed there were far worse boys to sleep with on sofas than Harry.

"That was what was so funny today, though," Lily said, smirking as she rested her teacup on her lower lip and gave Cara a sly look. "You know how Sev had a thing for me in school?" Cara nodded. "Well, he hated James because of that. And now…"

Cara snorted. Not that Severus actually wanted to marry Catherine, but technically Harry would be taking away his fiancée, when the time came for her to enter into a contract or engagement of her own. Of course, there would be no guarantees Catherine and Harry would end up together, but Cara decided she was going to believe it until she was forced not to.

"I don't suppose we should mention it to Sirius," Cara said, smiling at her friend. "I think I'll go distract him so he doesn't wander across them."

Lily winked and Cara went up to her bedroom to find Sirius standing at the foot of the bed. She traced her fingers up and down his back as he undid his shirt.

"Well, hello," he said, teasing. He quickly pulled off his shirt and looked at her with that same desperate, hungry look in his eyes as when they were young, on that sofa, and exploring each other for the first time. "Come to bed?"

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Colin turned over the little badge that had come with his Hogwarts letter and he smiled to himself. Ginny wrote to say she'd gotten the other one, and Catherine and Rhea got badges, as well. Luna and Ryana would be left out, but it was nice to know no matter who else they would have to work with, Colin would have friends among the Prefects.

Dennis had been jealous of the badge, but Colin suspected he was proud as well, as he immediately wrote to all his friends to tell them about it. Perhaps in a couple of years, Colin mused, Dennis would have a little Prefect badge as well.

Their mother had arranged for them to go to Diagon Alley when the Weasleys were going once she knew the date, so Colin was happy to be able to have at least one friend to shop with and chat with. He'd felt strangely lonely through the summer, as though he were the only one in the house, despite having his brother and parents around him most of the time. He felt older, tired, perhaps a bit jaded as he thought about all that he had seen and all that had happened in the past few months. Nearly losing a friend had left a mark on him, more than his own coma as a first year. Perhaps because his experience was short lived, and because he was not aware of how frightening it was until after it was over, or perhaps because he was old enough to understand fully, now. Every time Colin thought of Catherine's near-miss, he felt shivers all over. He couldn't help thinking Catherine and Death were getting far too familiar.

 **A/N: So, Sirius knows about the alcohol at least, the adults consider the present and the future of the relationship, and Kitty's got a badge!**

 **Review Prompt: Can you even imagine Catherine as a Prefect? I would love reactions on that one.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why can't Harry and Catherine have a marriage contract instead of Snape? (Guest)**

 **A: I've either got one SUPER frustrated guest reviewer on this point, or multiple guest reviewers who are a little bit frustrated. And let me start by apologizing for the frustration.**

 **I might not have made it super clear, but part of the legal point is that the person contracted to her – in order to block Lucius's stupidity – must be of age. Harry's only just turned sixteen in this chapter, so he wouldn't have been eligible for their needs. They could have used George, but no guarantees he wouldn't have tried to hold her to it and marry her, so they figured it was safer using Snape than having to contend with the hormones and emotions of fickle young men.**

 **Don't worry. She's NOT marrying Snape, but this avenue gives me the opportunity to have some special character and plot development I wanted, plus it's HILARIOUS. Even Lily thinks so. ;)**

 **-C**


	86. Power Players

**A/N: Alright, here's Bonus Two! Hand up for the nickname error last chapter. Apologies, and when I finish posting, I'm putting that on the list of things to tweak/fix when I go back through.**

 **-C**

Harry felt like a king, walking down Diagon Alley with Catherine. Yes, they weren't holding hands. They weren't even linking arms like they'd done at the Yule Ball. But only that morning she'd kissed him before his shower, and he would have sworn he could still feel the tingling aftereffect of her lips all around his mouth.

If Neville or Ron were to say about other girls half the things Harry was thinking of late, he would have teased them mercilessly.

He let Catherine lead him into the apothecary, where she began examining various ingredients for her advanced courses. The man running the counter seemed to know her by name, and he gave her a rather entertained look and said, "Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Black."

"Hmm?" She looked up at him from the container of beetle eyes she'd been scrutinizing. "Oh, yes, thank you."

She returned to considering the beetle eyes and Harry felt a strange lick of fire in his belly that he supposed was jealousy. He knew it was silly to feel jealous of Professor Snape, but he felt it all the same.

"I had wondered why Snape was so interested in you as a student," the man said, smirking. "Just what do you do during those extra lessons?"

Catherine looked at the man with astonishment, and Harry was about to draw his wand, furious at the suggestion. Catherine gave Harry a stern look, though, and turned back to the man with the haughty air of royalty.

"Excuse me?" she said coldly. The man's smirk wavered for only a moment, but she wasn't finished with him. "If you're going to make vile and baseless comments such as that, there are plenty of other apothecaries where I can do my business. I have no real need to make my purchases here."

Harry saw a flash of panic in the man's eyes, and he was already blurting out a string of apologies as Catherine led Harry out of the shop. Her father was standing there, looking puzzled as the man followed her out, completely unheeded.

"Did you find what you needed?" Uncle Sirius asked, still puzzled.

"I'll have to make a trip to Hogsmeade, Daddy," she said, as though this were nothing. "I find I am not inclined to spend money here."

She walked away toward the bookstore, and Uncle Sirius turned to Harry, incredulous.

"What happened?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Harry cleared his throat, glanced back at the shop, and said, "He…insinuated that she was sleeping with Professor Snape in her extra lessons, like the contract was proof of it, or something."

Uncle Sirius's eyes flashed dangerously and he looked back at the apothecary, where the man was watching them, anxious. When he saw the expression on Uncle Sirius's face, it seemed to Harry the man wilted slightly, as though he were afraid and dismayed. He had very certainly lost the business of an old and powerful family, and Uncle Sirius had a way of dragging many other old and powerful families with him on whatever his whim happened to be.

Harry and Uncle Sirius followed Catherine to Flourish and Blott's, and Uncle Sirius said, "I certainly think a trip to Hogsmeade could easily be arranged. Or perhaps Severus could pick up what she'll need. I think he'd like the chance to defend both of their honor and terrify that twerp of a former student."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Harry realized the man wasn't too much older than them, and had actually been a Slytherin, graduated three or so years ago.

"Yes," Harry said, frowning. "I think he certainly would."

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Brontes needed a new set of robes, so his mother walked him to Madam Malkin's while his father took his sister and brother to get all their course books. Brontes felt slightly annoyed he'd grown so much, not because he cared about economy, but because he thought he hadn't fully grown into his limbs yet and didn't know how to use them the way he would like anymore.

A young blond girl was walking by as he approached the shop, and when he got a glimpse of her startlingly blue eyes he recognized her as Rose Zeller, Caroline's Hufflepuff friend. She had a bag full of books from Flourish and Blott's, and Brontes found his eyes following her.

Her eyes met his and they widened with recognition. He saw her smile slightly, but she kept walking with a woman he could only assume was her mother. Brontes hadn't realized he was still watching her walk up the alley until his mother asked what he was looking at.

"Oh, I just saw someone I know from school," he said honestly, following his mother into the shop, offering no further details on Miss Zeller. His mother certainly didn't ask, perhaps because Miss Zeller's mother's clothing very clearly called them a Muggle family.

Brontes stood silently while his mother explained to Madam Malkin what they wished to order, and he found his eyes continually turning back toward the window that showed the street, his eyes scanning the various groups passing to and fro. But there was no further sign of Miss Zeller, nor of anyone else of particular interest to Brontes, for the rest of his time in the shop. He supposed there was nothing unusual about this, as they were coming rather late. But he deflated slightly, regardless.

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Throughout the afternoon, Harry followed Catherine around, surprised when she thought to take them to Quality Quidditch Supplies, letting him get a look at what was for sale, although what he had was vastly superior to anything sold readily on the shelves at the moment. Firebolts were still prohibitively expensive, and were likely to stay that way for a very long time, perhaps forever.

"Are you still angry?" Harry asked her as they walked toward the ice cream parlor to meet up with their party.

"No," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm excited for a new year."

Harry smiled back, only wishing that he wouldn't be graduating so soon.

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Lucius had a meeting while Draco and Narcissa did his school shopping, so they were home and finished by the time he arrived home from his work. It was not especially glamorous or important work, but sticking his fingers in a few potentially important things would help him keep tabs on various members of society who were critical to his aims.

Namely, his wife's cousin, Sirius Black.

He was still frustrated that Sirius had filed an unsigned contract with Severus engaged to Catherine. Lucius was certain that Severus had no intention of marrying Catherine, and yet it would block any legal action Lucius might have taken to force Sirius's hand and marry their eldest children to each other.

The worst part was, he thought bitterly as he looked over his son's books, the whole thing smacked of his wife's involvement. Just like during the war.

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Harry felt the days passing keenly, and the night before going back to Hogwarts, he couldn't sleep. He wanted to talk to Catherine, but he was afraid to try to sneak into her room while their parents were bound to be watching, so he stared at the ceiling, imagining her.

He'd become increasingly anxious and afraid about the way his mind and body were reacting to Catherine's constant closeness. He found he craved her, craved being around her, craved feeling her body in his arms, craved that strange tingling that followed her kisses. He wanted to kiss her more deeply, to devour her mouth. He wanted to touch her skin without the clothes in the way. He wanted to explore that pooling, tingling heat in the base of his stomach and the way his cock would twitch or stiffen sometimes when she crossed her legs or licked her lips or sighed or moaned.

It was part of growing up, he knew. He'd looked at some dirty pictures with Ron and Dean and Neville – they didn't bother looking with Seamus because Seamus's taste in girls was weird – and he knew some of the feelings were similar to how he felt with Catherine. He would catch himself trying to imagine her posed like some of the models in those photographs, and somehow it was so much more exciting. Maybe it was because she was flesh and blood, attainable, real.

Maybe it was because Catherine had a confidence factor that blew anyone else imaginable out of the water.

He rubbed his lips together and closed his eyes, recalling the way she'd looked at him before kissing him that afternoon. She hardly ever kissed him more than twice a week, and never more than one sitting in a day. Harry supposed that could be part of the attraction, that she kept him panting and practically begging for kisses. How could he expect to go to whatever the next stage was if she wouldn't even let him kiss her whenever?

And he so badly wanted to figure out what the next stage was so that they could do it, immediately.

He sighed, slipping his hand into his trousers and touching himself, trying to imagine his hand was her hand. It felt base and almost wrong to imagine her hand touching his cock, but he had given up on propriety for the night. In the morning, when they left for school, he might change his mind, but for the moment it felt surprisingly good to imagine her hand like that. The idea that it was vulgar and wrong barely registered.

Somehow, all his fantasies about any kind of sexual interaction between him and Catherine involved alcohol and were filled with a haze of cigarette smoke. He usually ended up on his knees kissing her body wherever he could reach, touching wherever he could touch.

In this moment, though, he was just imagining her hand, almost disembodied, and her golden-brown eyes looking at him with that satisfied, almost taunting expression she used before kissing his neck. He moaned slightly as he recalled the pressure of her lips on his neck, and how lightheaded that always made him feel.

What was it about the neck that was so enticing?

For half a moment, he was wishing that he had the nerve to sneak into her bedroom, so that he could try to convince Catherine it would be a good idea to touch each other.

But then he thought with an amused bitterness that it was foolish to try to convince Catherine of anything, and he abandoned the plan in favor of his hand.

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Howard Harkiss turned over his Prefect badge again, unable to stop smiling when he looked at it. He'd worked so hard to get this, and now he was getting to act on the privileges of that hard work. He thought Rhea Prewett would probably be the other Ravenclaw Prefect, and he closed his eyes, feeling the cool metal in his hand as he tried to get his sleep before the long journey to Hogwarts in the morning.

In his mind's eye, he could see the possibility, with hard work, of earning the Head Boy badge to go with the Prefect's badge. He wasn't sure who would be his competition for it, but he would know soon enough. His mother had been so proud of him, something she could understand and brag about, something she could explain about her son's unusual schooling.

He sighed, squeezing the pin a bit tighter in his hand. It no longer felt cool against the skin of his palm, but it was still pleasant. In the morning he'd pack the few things he'd left out for getting ready, like shampoo. He'd dress, eat, and pin this pin on his robes before tucking them into the outer part of his trunk, ready to pull them on as they approached the school. He would get in the car, wait patiently while his mother drove him to King's Cross. She would not go in with him. She was unnerved by how she was expected to get on the platform, and even more unnerved by seeing her son disappear into it, but she would kiss him goodbye in the carpark, and his duties would begin.

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Rolland stood on the platform, looking at the scarlet steam engine, a Prefect's badge on his chest as Charles Vaisey and Hyperion MacFarlan approached, clearly full of news.

"Black and Smith in Hufflepuff," Hyperion said. "And I saw Harkiss got one of the Ravenclaw ones."

"And Prewett," Charles said. "And then the Weasley girl and Creevey in Gryffindor. It could have been better, but I imagine it could have been worse. At least they're intelligent."

Rolland hummed. He had hoped it would have been Aveline as his counterpart in Slytherin, but he'd already seen Adrasteia Lestrange with her badge, looking so proud of herself as she strutted through the crowd like a peacock. She was clearly looking for attention, so he had deftly not granted it to her.

"Find a compartment near the back," he told his friends. "I have to go to the meeting at the front of the train, get my orders. It's really too bad they couldn't have got Hufflepuffs who get along. Smith and Black hate each other."

Charles murmured something in assent and Rolland waved his friends off, walking toward the front of the train. He passed Harkiss, who waved and congratulated him as he put his trunk in a nearby compartment. Rolland inclined his head slightly by way of returning the polite gesture. He saw Black and Potter outside the compartment, whispering something.

It was sickening, Rolland thought, the way Potter was looking at her, like he wanted to kneel at her feet. Yes, she was rather spectacular, and it was probably a relief to everyone who cared about her that she'd survived her latest scrape, but as far as Rolland was concerned, she was more trouble than she was worth. He greeted them with a small grunt and pushed past them into the Prefects cabin.

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Anabella Whitehorn settled into the train with Cherise, waiving to their families before they turned to each other and began to talk about what they wanted to do during this new year at school.

"D'you think there's going to be space on the Quidditch team this year?" Cherise asked, flicking her dark hair out of her eyes. She had already regaled Anabella on her fabulous summer in Italy, where she spent four weeks on Lake Como with her cousins. Anabella tried not to feel jealous.

"Probably not," Anabella said, stretching her legs on the seats, hoping no first years came sniffing at their compartment when they couldn't find empty ones. "I think next year, maybe, when some of the old guard have graduated, there might be a shot to make it on."

They both pulled books out of their bags, laughing when Cherise pointed out what a stereotype of their House they looked, sitting on a train with their books.

"Did you see that there's a new Minister for Magic?" Anabella asked, flipping the page of her book as the train started to move, pulling out of the station.

"What does it matter?" Cherise asked, tiredly. "They're all useless, anyway."

/-/

Anastasia didn't really want to sit with Virginia and Delora, especially as she'd have to share a room with them all year, but she hesitated, not knowing where she was going to want to sit instead. She was just about to look for them when she heard Aeson Lestrange call her name up the corridor. She smiled and waved.

"Where are you headed, Barbary?" he said, walking her way.

"Oh," she said, shrugging. "I don't know. I guess I'll sit with Virginia and Delora."

He wrinkled his nose. She knew he didn't like Delora, and she just smiled.

"C'mon, you're coming with me," he said, winking at her. "Caro won't mind."

Anastasia's stomach turned slightly with anxiety. She'd never spoken to Caroline Black, and she'd never particularly wanted to. But she didn't want to say no to Aeson, knowing what a force he could be.

Caroline Black was sitting by the window, her legs on Damon Prewett's lap. Damon's twin was sitting on his other side, and a quiet Hufflepuff girl was sitting by the door on the other side.

"I found a friend to join us," Aeson said with a wink. "Anastasia, you know of Caro, Damon, Ourania, and this is Rose Zeller. Hufflepuff."

"Pleasure," Anastasia said, not lying, but not fully feeling the words as she sat between Aeson and Rose, who had a book out, ready to read.

"Welcome," Caroline said, with no actual welcome in her voice. "Oh, Aeson, good news."

"Hmm?"

"Damon and I are dating."

"Since when?" Aeson asked with a laugh.

Caroline touched Damon's hand and said, "Since just now. I just told him before you came in."

At first, Anastasia thought it was a joke, but from the almost-pleased flush of Damon Prewett's cheeks she realized it was strangely true, and from there the conversation tone was set.

/-/

Jessa Switch, a Gryffindor fourth year, walked up to the castle that evening feeling a strange sense of emptiness. Fourth year, she thought to herself, was not especially special. She wasn't just starting. She didn't have the benefit of being allowed new privileges like brooms. She went to Hogsmeade and started new courses the year before. She wouldn't have the chance to be a Prefect for another year, she wouldn't get to drop original courses until sixth year, and she wouldn't have the ultimate dream of being a seventh year until the year after that. Fourth year was just…middling.

Still, she supposed she could make the most of it. Perhaps she would try out for Quidditch. There didn't seem to be much of a chance of making it into the open Chaser slots, but it was possible. And she might make the reserves.

She saw Harry Potter and Catherine Black walking past her into the castle and she smiled to herself, although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was a good omen for the year to come, after all.

 **A/N: So, the contract causes friction, Harry is falling hard and fast, and Caroline and Damon are official (and adorable, let's all admit it).**

 **Review Prompt: Scale of one to ten, how much chaos is this contract going to cause in the halls of Hogwarts? A student "engaged" to a professor…. Scandalous!**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Exactly how talented are Harry and Kitty compared to one another? (Disabled Antag)**

 **A: Great question. I suppose I've been sort of nebulous about this. Time to clear it up.**

 **Harry is talented, in some subjects. He's not lacking in natural ability, and with Hermione and his parents and other people pushing him (plus his competitiveness with Catherine), he's done enough hard work to succeed at levels higher than he did in the actual books. It's funny, because his goals required higher academic standards in the books, but there you have it.**

 **Catherine, on the other hand, is definitely more talented (and certainly in different subjects), and has that frustrating trait of someone who doesn't have to work hard. You know those kids in high school who never take notes, never study, ace everything? (Ah, who am I kidding, that was me). That's Catherine. She's got a solid memory, she does read her books, but more for entertainment and troublemaking ideas. If you're going on sheer talent and knowledge, she'd beat Harry in every duel, but her temperament might get her into trouble and cause her to lose. Harry takes after his mother enough to have some caution, but Catherine's like her father – and we all know how he ended in canon. She dives in headfirst without looking. This has already gotten her into trouble. It will get her into more.**

 **For those of you looking at this and thinking, "that's not a very healthy balance of power for a blossoming relationship," you're absolutely right. Harry's a tiny bit in awe of her, and she completely knows it and relishes it. This WILL cause complications in their relationship, and has the potential to destroy them completely.**

 **For those of you who find the balance of power in the Caroline/Damon relationship frustrating, consider it the more innocuous version of Harry/Kitty. The power gap is wider, but they don't have the competitive nature between them, and Caroline doesn't have Catherine's emotional and psychological baggage.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	87. Property of the Half-Blood Prince

**A/N: Here's Bonus Three! Slow and steady this week, I see.**

 **-C**

Malcolm Baddock nearly fainted when he looked at the schedules he and Brontes would be keeping that first day of the new year.

"Arithmancy," Malcolm sighed. "Ancient Runes. All before lunch."

"You get a break between them," Brontes said coolly, glancing across the hall to where his cousin, Jason, was scrutinizing his own schedule. "And a long lunch, besides."

"And Potions and Transfiguration!" Malcolm moaned, ignoring his friend's lack of interest. "It's a packed day. It's not fair."

"You didn't have to sign up for all the things I signed up for," Brontes said, bored. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini sat down with their recently procured schedules.

Malcolm was not really on speaking terms with either boy, and the fact they were so much older did not help matters.

"Terrible," Draco said darkly. "Absolutely terrible."

Malcolm could see that Malfoy's schedule was packed quite tightly on this first day, but then he had two whole days without courses, only one on Thursday and Friday.

"Are those weekend courses?" Blaise said, squinting at his own schedule. "I can't do Charms on Sunday morning. That's madness!"

Malcolm did agree this was madness, but he felt a bit worse for the professors who had to teach on weekends, which at least was Professor Sinistra and Professor Flitwick. It didn't seem they had any time to themselves, where students had plenty of time. In theory.

Draco leaned over and grinned to Brontes and whispered, "What d'you think Professor Snape's going to do about all the rumors about Kitty?"

Feeling his face flush, Malcolm glanced to their Head of House, who was passing out the last of the schedules. He gave the Slytherins a stern look before walking to the Gryffindor table and having a brief conversation with Catherine Black, who listened with surprising attention and nodded, making a note of something on her timetable, presumably a note of her extra classes that had become the center of so much gossip.

"I doubt he'll do anything much," Brontes said with a frown. "Maybe he'll give a few unpleasant detentions. They'll die out soon enough. I can't think of two people I'd less like to start a rumor about."

Malcolm silently agreed as Draco grinned winking across the Hall to his cousin, who narrowed her eyes at him before saying something to Professor Snape, who nodded before crossing back. Draco seemed to wilt slightly, probably afraid as Malcolm would be that she'd said something that didn't bode well on him, but Professor Snape did not look at Draco, which made Malcolm uneasy. Just because Snape didn't give someone a look didn't mean he wasn't saving it for later.

But then, Malcolm was nobody, and Draco Malfoy could get away with a lot more because he was somebody. Even where Professor Snape was concerned.

"Brontes, we have to go soon," Malcolm said softly. "We have to get our books."

With a hum of acknowledgement, Brontes glanced at something across the room Malcolm couldn't pinpoint, and he finished his breakfast quickly.

/-/

Second year Gryffindor and Slytherin students had Potions as their first class, right before lunch. Persephone set up her cauldron between Demelza and Jessica, watching Professor Snape sweep through the room to take a quick count of the students before giving them instructions. He paused by Caroline's cauldron and muttered something to her softly. Caroline frowned slightly, glanced at Aeson, and sighed before continuing to prepare her cauldron for use. Persephone was itching to know what was said, especially now rumors about how Snape and Catherine Black were engaged were swirling about like wildfire. Persephone wondered why anyone would become engaged to Snape, how he'd asked, what the understanding was, and how he was supposed to teach her without bias.

She preferred to think there was romance involved, although it seemed like the most bizarre mismatch in the world. Catherine was beautiful and glamorous, like a princess or a film star. And Snape was, well, a dungeon bat.

"Wood," Snape snapped. "Pay attention."

He had begun to give instructions and she blushed, realizing she was the only one who hadn't started to follow them.

/-/

After Potions, it was lunchtime, and Delora walked with Anastasia and Virginia to the Great Hall, where Catherine Black and her clique were overtly sitting at the Gryffindor table – again.

"You'd think she'd sit with the Slytherins," Virginia whispered. "You know, because…"

She shrugged and glanced up toward Professor Snape, who was listening to a story Professor Black was telling him, his black eyes scanning the students for troublemakers, as always. They lingered on where Catherine Black and Harry Potter were flicking bits of breadcrumbs at each other across the Gryffindor table.

"She doesn't have any friends in Slytherin," Delora said, sniffing.

It wasn't that Delora thought she knew everything, but she believed quite firmly one should always portray their beliefs with absolute certainty in order to avoid being questioned. At least, she had always believed that before, but now she was close to Anastasia Barbary, who questioned everything she could, regardless, Delora thought she might have to rethink that particular viewpoint.

"She's friends with Draco," Anastasia said, glancing up the table. "And I think she's on decent terms with her cousins. Not Adra, but the boys."

Delora hummed to avoid getting into a losing fight with Anastasia, who seemed to be friendly with Aeson. Delora didn't exactly want to marry Aeson, but the idea wasn't an unappealing one. She'd rather have Brontes Lestrange, but one took what one could get.

"How is everything over here, ladies?" Draco asked as he made his way over to where his closest friends, Blaise, Astoria, and Brontes, were sitting.

"Fine," the girls chorused, and Delora felt her cheeks go pink. He nodded and said he hoped they enjoyed their day before continuing up the table.

After the third sandwich, toward the end of lunch, Virginia finally said what had been on nearly everybody's mind.

"D'you think they've kissed?"

Not wanting to gossip outright, Delora and Anastasia exchanged glances over their pumpkin juice before Anastasia said quickly, "Who?"

Virginia turned a bit pink and said, "You know. Them."

"Say names or don't speak," Delora snapped, and Virginia turned purple, glancing up at the Head Table to see if Professor Snape was somehow intuitively watching them. He was speaking to Professor Lupin, so Virginia whispered the names of Professor Snape and Catherine Black.

"Well, obviously not," Delora said with a sniff, turning back to her sandwich. "A lady doesn't kiss her fiancé until she's married him."

/-/

Catherine was practically preening as she came out of her Defense Against the Dark Arts course, partly because she was so pleased to have a free period before Runes, but mostly because she'd been asked to display the curses and counter-curses they would be covering first thing, with Ginny. She loved taking Defense with the Gryffindors. She also loved beating Ginny.

"Where are you going?" she teased Harry when she stumbled across him in the entrance hall. "You've not continued Care of Magical Creatures, have you?"

"No," he said, smiling at the sight of her. "I've got the rest of the day off. You?"

"Just the one free period," she said with a pout. "Wait, why are you so pleased? Didn't you just come from Potions?"

His brilliant green eyes flashed with excitement and he beckoned for her to follow him, which she did, eyes narrowed, suspicious. He brought her to one of their favorite crannies on the third floor corridor, a place where they'd spent a lot of lazy hours, and he started pulling a book out of his bag. It was old, care-worn, but it wasn't an unfamiliar book. She recognized _Advanced Potion-Making_ as the text the NEWT students used. In fact, Professor Snape had begun using it for her studies, along with some books from his personal library.

"Did your mother give you her copy or something?" she asked, frowning. "Looks like it's been around that long."

"Nah, Ron's potion destroyed my book, so Snape told me to take one from the cabinet until my new book came. This one was on top, so I grabbed it. Check this out."

He opened the book to reveal not only the pages of the text that she knew well enough, but also spindly writing in the margins, compact and somehow still neat. Some of it was improvements to the potions on the page, some of it what seemed to be spells, jinxes, and even whole potions that appeared to have been invented by the writer, who had written improvements and adjustments, crossing things out and re-writing as necessary.

"Woah," she breathed, feeling her heat pounding as she realized how valuable a book like this could be. Not only would it help Harry's Potions grade – clearly what he was excited about – but it could give them all kinds of insights into spells and brewing from a mind that didn't just collect those spells, but created them in a way that required a deep understanding of magic.

He smiled and licked his lips, and she could tell by the way he was looking at her he'd decided what he wanted to do with the rest of the hour she had off. Her body felt strangely light when he looked at her like that, and she decided to make him work for the kisses he wanted, leaning back against the wall and giving him a challenging, amused look. Harry's lips twitched with recognition, and he began to slide across the floor toward her, ready and eager to earn each touch.

/-/

At dinner, Harry paused at the Slytherin table, which Draco thought was odd. It wasn't that Harry couldn't want to speak with him about something to do with their duties as Prefects, but Draco knew there wasn't anything to discuss. Harry glanced around for a moment before leaning in and saying, "I need your help with something."

"With what?" Draco asked, frowning and hesitant.

"It has to do with Kitty."

Draco nodded, smiling, as he realized it had to do with the date Harry had got Catherine to agree to. Harry licked his lips and glanced up at Uncle Sirius.

"You've got the library on patrol on Friday, right?"

"Yes."

"Who with?"

"Padma Patil," Draco said, trying not to look incredibly amused in case Professor Snape and Uncle Sirius looked at them. That could only end awkwardly.

Harry seemed relieved by this and he said, "Good, I can get her to swap with Rhea. She needs help in Defense. You'll do it with Rhea. I need you to help her set up."

Draco considered asking what was in it for him, but he knew Harry would be a chivalrous Gryffindor and live up to whatever Draco needed in future, provided Draco did well on what was expected of him.

"Deal," Draco said, choosing the world specifically to remind Harry that there would be payment expected, forthcoming at a date of Draco's selection. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded before walking away.

Blaise sat down and glanced over his shoulder after Harry, who was joining his clique at the Ravenclaw table, with Catherine's clique.

"What was that all about?"

"Scheduling for Prefects rounds," Draco said, not lying but not feeling it was prudent for Blaise to know the whole truth. "He needed to arrange a swap and he wanted to know whom to ask."

Blaise hummed as he helped himself to some chicken, very clearly not believing what Draco said, but not thinking it was worth digging on. This was why Blaise and Draco made such good friends. They understood each other well enough to know when to press, when to believe, when to leave well enough alone, and when to spot the lies.

"Do you think we'll want to start our homework tomorrow," Blaise asked dryly, "or shall we leave it for Wednesday?"

Draco let his lips twitch, knowing they would begin first thing in the morning, if not as soon as they finished with dinner.

/-/

Jason was exhausted at the end of his first day with elective courses, and he kicked off his shoes in the dormitory with the air of someone who was ready to pass out. Dennis and Jimmy looked equally exhausted as they began to change into their pajamas. Jason was trying to decide whether to peel off his socks or just leave them be.

"Can I say something?" Dennis asked, which caused his friends to look at him with amusement and surprise. "No, it's just, I don't want to disrespect your sister, Jason, but I just feel the need to say something."

With a sigh, Jason closed his eyes and gestured for Dennis to speak, knowing that it had to be about Catherine's engagement.

"It's just, Kitty's so beautiful, and Snape's disgusting."

"They're not really engaged," he said, tiredly. "It's a legal thing to keep people from pestering her for contracts. She's dating Harry and she's not going to marry Snape."

Dennis didn't look convinced when Jason opened his eyes, but he did seem like he wouldn't broach the subject again for the time being.

/-/

Hermione was still stewing over the book Harry had got in Potions, but he had put it down long enough to whisper something to Ginny, who nodded and slipped out of the Common Room to go do her patrol.

"What was that all about?" Neville asked when Harry joined them. Until Neville shifted when he spoke, Hermione hadn't realized he'd put an arm around her, but she didn't complain or move away. In fact, the warmth from his body being so close was quite pleasant.

"She's patrolling with Padma," Harry said, smiling. "I was informing her of the swap. Rhea had to switch."

"Why?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed. "There shouldn't be any reason for them to switch yet."

Activities had not yet begun. No essays big enough to lose sleep over had been assigned to either girl. And Rhea wasn't the sort to get detention on her first day back, not without being drawn in by all her friends.

"It's a thing Rhea's doing for me," Harry said, going slightly pink as he picked at a spot on the sofa. "She, erm…. Anyway, they've swapped for the week, and it'll be back to normal next week, and if you must know, Hermione, I'll tell you about it on the weekend."

Hermione thought about pressing the matter, but then she realized what it must be. It had to do with Catherine, and trying to impress her. It was strangely sweet, Hermione thought, the way Harry had begun to look at and treat Catherine since her coma, since realizing that life without her might exist and finding that he didn't like that idea. It was amazing, how things like that could change perspective. Hermione wondered how they were planning to date while Catherine was under unsigned contract, knowing that it gave Professor Snape the legal right to have Harry magically restricted from "spoiling" Catherine – which Hermione thought was utterly barbaric, as there were no restrictions on Professor Snape from seeing other women.

If Harry knew about these things, or thought about them at the very least, Hermione couldn't tell. He seemed totally carefree, as usual, and he was turning over the little mirror he sometimes used to talk to Catherine as he flipped through the book he'd gotten in Potions, covered with writing Hermione didn't quite trust.

Ron had teased that it was because it had allowed Harry to get better marks than her, but she had seen the look Professor Snape had given Harry as well, and that look told Hermione there was more to that book than met the eye.

Or perhaps it was a sign Professor Snape knew Harry was sitting around daydreaming about Catherine the bulk of his time when not in class – and sometimes while in class as well.

"Do you have plans for the Quidditch trials?" Ron asked.

"It's not for a couple of weeks," Harry said, flipping the page and running his thumb over the ornate frame of the little mirror. "I'll think about it later."

/-/

Laura Madley let her tired eyes close, almost afraid if she did allow sleep to come, she wouldn't have time to do all the things she needed to do for the morning. Third year was supposed to be fun and exciting, but she only felt the dread of trying to find time to do everything required of her with more class than she'd ever had before. How was she supposed to keep her very high standards when she was learning so many new things all of the time?

One of her roommates began to snore softly and Laura frowned. The rhythmic, soft sound was almost a tantalizing temptation to give in to sleep, but she could feel anxiety building up inside her chest at the very thought of that word.

"Laura?"

The voice of Retha Pilliwickle was hissing at her in the darkness.

"What?" Laura asked.

"Oh, I guess that's not you," Retha said, sounding disappointed. "Never mind."

Laura tried not to roll her eyes under closed eyelids, rolling over on her bed to face the sound of the soft snores. Retha was always looking for something to gossip about.

"Camilla?" Retha hissed.

No answer. Regardless of whether Camilla was snoring or simply sleeping silently, unable to hear her own name, Laura knew that come the morning, Retha would whisper to the others that Camilla Prod had been snoring while Retha was trying to sleep.

/-/

Severus turned his firewhiskey glass, admiring it in the firelight.

He was not interested in marrying Catherine Black, and yet when he saw the thoughts in Harry Potter's mind, a special kind of jealousy and objection had flared in him. His first thought was to sabotage any kind of relationship that might be developing between the pair, not wanting to suffer the indignity of his fiancée – however false – being attached to someone else.

But that had been his downfall with Lily, all those years ago, letting pride take over. While he didn't think he'd say hurtful things to Catherine, having matured a bit from his fifteen-year-old self, if he meddled with his prize pupil's personal life beyond her approval, he might lose his influence over her. Severus had a bright and glittering career envisioned for her, and if he sabotaged Potter, he might sabotage those plans right along with it.

Not worth the risk, he decided, knocking back his drink.

 **A/N: So, Harry's got the book, the date is forthcoming, and Severus opts to suffer in silence for the moment.**

 **Review Prompt: With the book now in the picture, someone will be driven to extremes of stupid behavior. Who do you think it will be?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Wouldn't it be better to transfer [the contract] over to Harry the moment he becomes of age? (Shadowz101)**

 **A: "Better" is a bit of a vague word. First of all, they've got about a year before that's possible – and as we know, TONS can happen in a year. Better for Kitty? Maybe. Less gossip, or rather different gossip. Better for Harry? Probably. Fewer potential dangers to his person, certainly. Better for their maturing like normal human beings – no, but you'll see why later.**

 **Better for Snape and Sirius and James? Definitely not. Snape's connection to Kitty gives him…a special insight into her behaviors. The longer they keep an eye on her, the better, they would all agree.**

 **And as for the development of the relationship, none of the adults would suggest such a thing, particularly with this capricious pair. After all, no telling if they'll even be speaking to each other in a year's time. They can deal with it when the time comes, they all think.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	88. The Many Faces of Young Love

**A/N: Welcome to your weekly update! Just thought y'all should know, I'm almost half-way through pre-writing Part 3. ;)**

 **-C**

As the only date Harry had ever been on was an unequivocal disaster, and pretty much entirely arranged by Catherine to prove any relationship he might have with Cho would be just such a disaster, Harry stood in front of his mirror that night feeling a sense of dread building in the base of his stomach.

He had been over everything in his mind a dozen times. Rhea had assured him everything would be in place exactly as they had discussed, and she had approved of his plans on behalf of Catherine's clique. He had put on his best shirt, his best-fitting jeans, his favorite trainers. He'd even dabbed on a bit of cologne Neville had given him for his birthday, praying she liked the smell. It was a bit like frankincense and clove together in a strange, spicy blend. He'd tried desperately to tame his hair, and even used a bit of the potion Hermione swore by and leant him with a sympathetic smile, but it did nothing to tame his locks.

He squeezed his hands together, turning in front of the mirror to check for lint, and he started when Dean came in, blinking at him.

"What are you doing up, then?" Dean asked.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling sheepish. "Oh, well, I was just…. I'm going out in a bit."

"Out," Dean said, smiling to himself. "With the curfew on?"

Harry shrugged. He technically could be out as a Prefect, but he knew that didn't really cover sneaking out to have a date with Catherine in the middle of the night. As far as Harry was concerned, though, it was sufficient.

Dean looked Harry up and down appraisingly, and Harry began to feel even more uncomfortable.

"The cologne's not bad," Dean said. "Ginny would love that."

"Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yeah, she broke up with Corner, you know, and we've agreed to go to Hogsmeade together. She's quite a bird. Very pretty."

Harry hummed. He supposed Ginny was pretty enough, but she looked a bit too much like his mother, and she didn't hold a candle to Catherine. Maybe if he'd not seen the two of them side by side so often he could think of Ginny's beauty without comparison, but as it was it seemed impossible, now.

"Right," Harry said, glancing at the mirror.

"She's not going to care that much, Harry," Dean said, amused. "D'you really think a girl you've known all your life is going to be discouraged if your hair isn't laying perfectly flat?"

Discouraged was not a word Harry would ever have thought in conjunction with Catherine, but he supposed that was the difference between how Dean saw Catherine and how Harry knew her to be. She would fully expect him to give his utmost to impress her, and he had every intention of trying, although he wasn't sure how to impress her, truly. She had everything she could want with the snap of her fingers, including him.

A strange tingling sensation formed in the base of his stomach as he thought of her snapping her fingers and beckoning him toward her to do…whatever she asked. It was mildly terrifying, how desperately he found he wanted to please her.

"What time is she expecting you?" Dean asked.

"Shit," Harry spat, looking at his watch. He was supposed to meet her by the third-floor suit of armor in ten minutes, and he barely had enough time to get there, much less look like he was totally cool and unconcerned when she arrived. And she had the Map.

She would know.

He gritted his teeth, waved goodbye to Dean, and hurried to meet Catherine, hoping she didn't tease him for his scrambling. It would not be a way to start the night.

/-/

Damon and Caroline were sitting together by the fireplace, on the floor. He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling a slightly excited sensation from her closeness, much less that she would let him touch her hair this way. It was beautifully soft and silky, cool in his fingers.

"I'm thinking of trying for the Quidditch team," she said nonchalantly.

"Hmm?"

"Tryouts," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "There's two open Chaser slots this year. Ginny's bound to slot into one, but who knows? I might fill the other. And at worst, I suppose I could make a reserve."

"I think you'd be a wonderful Chaser," he said honestly.

Yes, he said things because he hoped they would please Caroline, but Damon never lied. If he thought it wouldn't please Caroline, he might not say something, but he'd never just say something for the sake of pleasing her that wouldn't please his conscience as well.

"Will you go?"

"Will I go where?" he asked, turning his head to smell the jasmine in her hair. He'd never been a particular fan of that smell before, but now he found he couldn't get enough of it. He wanted to bathe in it.

"The tryouts."

"If you want me there, I'll be in the front row."

/-/

Catherine giggled as Harry led her to wherever their date would be. He wasn't insisting it be a surprise, like having her cover her eyes or anything, and it didn't take her long to puzzle out that he was taking her to the library. It wasn't the most glamorous place, and she gave him a look demanding explanation. He squeezed her hand and ignored the look.

"This is somewhere we've been a million times," she said, frowning as he dragged her along the corridors. "Why do you feel like this is suddenly a date?"

He put his finger over his lip and frowned at her playfully, so Catherine rolled her eyes back, letting Harry drag her into the library, and then into the back corner where the oldest, dustiest books were.

Her jaw dropped.

Harry had gone through considerable trouble to lay out a snack with her favorite sweets, mulled wine, strawberries, and dozens of candles.

"Candles in the library might not be a great idea," she said nervously, but he shook his head.

"The flames are frozen; they can't set anything on fire."

Catherine nodded, and she sat down where Harry pulled out the chair for her, and instead of sitting across from her, he sat beside her on the next chair, watching her with an intensity she'd never seen from him before, not when looking at her.

"You look beautiful," he said. Then she saw him flush slightly. "I mean, you always look beautiful, but in this light you look..." He frowned, his eyes searching her face as though the word he wanted was written there and he just needed to figure out how to translate it from her face to his lips. Catherine's eyes immediately flickered to his lips and she realized they looked strangely pale in this light. She'd never given them so much thought before.

"What?"

She hated prompting him when he was trying to compliment her, but she found it hard to breathe while she waited for his words.

"You...look... You look painted. Like...like too perfect to exist in real life, so you must be a painting."

She let out a nervous laugh and smiled at him so he wouldn't think the laugh was a negative. Actually, it was much more beautiful, much more poetic than anything she'd expected him to say.

They sat in nervous silence for a few minutes, and she took a deep breath. This was Harry, just Harry. She'd known him all her life. How could she not have anything to say to him? Before she could think of something to break the silence, Harry picked up one of the strawberries, holding it up to her slightly-parted lips. Catherine quirked an eyebrow, questioning. He just brushed it across her lips teasingly. She could taste just a hint of the tartness, and it was strangely sensual, the way he was moving the flesh of the fruit across her lips.

Catherine let him drag the berry across her skin for a few moments before playfully snapping at it, taking about half the berry in her mouth before pulling away with exaggerated satisfaction.

Harry didn't let her have that small moment, though. He leaned in almost as soon as she leaned back and he kissed her while she was still chewing the strawberry. She swallowed more quickly than she would have normally, startled by the sudden sensation of his lips on hers. Harry sighed against her lips. She felt him suckle lightly on her lower lip and she realized he could certainly taste the juices of the strawberry. Something about that was incredibly exciting.

When he finally moved back from the kiss, his eyes flickering over her no-doubt kiss-swollen lips, stained from the berry, she felt a kind of fire between them that had been lacking in their smoke-and-drink laden kissing sessions in London. Catherine liked this fire very, very much. She touched his face with uncertain fingers and he leaned toward her touch briefly. Then he kissed her palm and said, "Wine?"

Catherine hummed and watched him open the bottle. He hadn't bothered with glasses, and she didn't really mind, taking the first drink from the bottle and passing it to him as she cuddled close enough to feel the heat of his body. There was a strange symmetry between this and the way they had been. Like this was that way, only better.

She closed her eyes and wished the night would never end.

/-/

Astoria was reading a book in the common room when Draco entered after his patrol. He looked at her and she could feel his eyes on her. She looked up, smiling at him as his eyes scanned her tiredly.

"You took longer than usual," she said, sitting up a bit straighter as he crossed to sit beside her. There wasn't strictly room for two in the chair, but she moved over a bit to make room. They were both reasonably thin.

"I was helping Harry with something," he said, his eyes now searching her face more specifically.

Astoria nodded, admiring the keen, sharp look in his eyes, even when they were tired. Sometimes she felt he could see all her secrets, not that she had many. As far as she was concerned, her life was an open book for someone who paid attention, like Draco or Blaise. Possibly Brontes.

"You look very tired," she said honestly, hoping he didn't decide to leave despite this. He had far more free time than she did, in spite of his mass of work.

Draco did seem to struggle with what to do for a moment before he took her hand in his surprisingly cold one and pressed it to dry, cool lips. Astoria felt dizzy and she realized she'd been holding her breath.

"I suppose you're right," he said softly. "But I think…I'll stay up a little longer. If you don't mind."

Astoria closed her eyes, feeling a rush of relief. They were on the same page after all.

/-/

Hermione waited up for Harry in the common room, knowing he would not come in from his date with Catherine until quite late. She was half-afraid, knowing his lack of tact and how the date with Cho had gone, that he would come in feeling depressed and in need of cheering up. But at around two in the morning Harry walked in with a silly grin and surprising spring in his step for someone who looked dead on his feet.

"Harry?" she said, wondering if they'd been using some kind of drugs. She'd always been worried, ever since he started sneaking off and drinking with Catherine, that the girl would drag him into something awful. "Are you alright?"

"Alright?" he said, not even questioning her presence in the common room. "I'm amazing, Hermione. I'm on the bloody moon."

Oh, god, he was tripping on something terrible, she was sure of it.

"Harry, you're at Hogwarts. You're not on the moon."

"What?" he said, giving her a puzzled look, but still smiling. "No, no, not literally, Hermione. I mean I'm so…. Everything's so great, I couldn't think of another way to express how…. She's perfect, Hermione. Kitty's just perfect."

Well, Hermione knew that wasn't true. But the fact he didn't actually think he was on the moon was a small comfort. When he sat down across from her she could smell wine and chocolate on his breath, but apart from the signs of alcohol she couldn't find any physical evidence that he'd partaken of anything heavier than that.

"She had a nice time, then?" Hermione asked, feeling the fullness of her exhaustion now she knew he would be more or less alright. "No, erm…. I mean, everything went well?"

"Perfect," he said, tossing his head back slightly. She could see a love bite on his neck and her lips twitched. If Professor Black saw that, if any teacher saw that and went snooping, he'd be in potentially massive trouble with her father.

"Harry, d'you want me to take care of that?" she asked, trying not to giggle. God, why was everything so funny when she was tired?

He looked at her, puzzled.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Your neck."

He rubbed his hand along his neck, trying to find something wrong with it, but she shook her head and told him about the love bite. His eyes widened slightly, and then he grinned all the wider, seeming to recall however he'd gotten the bite. Hermione saw his eyes glaze slightly as he rested his head on the windowpane, and she pulled out her and, deciding she'd just get rid of it before he could say something stupid like how he wanted to keep it.

If he was going to be this loopy, it seemed important to save him from himself.

/-/

Cara read over the nervous letter from her son, smiling to herself as he beseeched her in the opening lines not to tell his father and not to think badly of him before he explained the situation and asked for advice. She wondered which girl he was talking about, which friend of his he was trying to take on a date. She gave the best advice she could in the letter she was drafting, not knowing Hogwarts extensively the way Sirius did, but only from her husband's stories.

She hoped it was that Natalie McDonald. Cara had thought she was a sweet, quiet girl. Well-suited to Jason, and without the baggage of being from a family close to his family with a gaggle of siblings and gossiping parents. She wanted to ask her son how things were going with Harry and Catherine, but she restrained herself. Jason would know, of course, but she didn't want to put him in the middle of his sister's love life, especially as he had been so kind as to inform her Caroline and Damon Prewett thought they were dating.

Her children were practically grown, she mused as she set down her quill and rubbed her eyes. Not so long ago, it felt, she had been a child herself, small and afraid and trying to deal with feelings for the first time. She only prayed her children didn't take quite the same method as she and Sirius had.

/-/

When Severus saw that Catherine was tired at breakfast, he did a cursory examination of her mind and emotional state. He didn't typically invade the minds of students so deeply – although not deep enough to be noticed – but he knew her father wouldn't mind, and he did have a strange kind of legal right to her well-being now.

As soon as he looked, he wished he hadn't. She seemed to be remembering a date – a very much unsanctioned date in the middle of the night in the library – with Harry Potter. She was remembering kissing him, drinking from a bottle of wine together. Severus pulled out of her mind before he could see any more. For one wild moment he thought about foregoing using his influence as their teacher and going straight to exerting his legal right to separate the two, but as soon as he took a drink of pumpkin juice he knew it was foolish to interfere.

They were young, and young people make mistakes. And further than that, Harry was not his father (entirely) and Catherine was certainly not her mother. She did not need protecting in that same way, and Harry Potter might have been self-interested and spoiled, but he was not a bully. If anything, Catherine was the bully.

"Something wrong, Sev?" Sirius asked, helping himself to some eggs.

Severus had a wicked thought of revealing to Sirius what his daughter had been up to, but he recognized it immediately for what it was. As much as he was tempted to make Sirius the villain in separating the pair so his own influence over Catherine would not be tarnished, it would not be fair to Sirius, and Lily would know. Lily always knew, and she would never forgive him.

"Nothing at all," Severus said, glancing back at Catherine, who was smiling sleepily to herself as she cut her sausages.

/-/

Kevin walked with Laura to lunch and asked if she had anything she was doing later.

"Well, there's that essay for Professor Lupin," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I was thinking about finishing up before bed."

"No," Kevin said, feeling a bit nervous as he tried to keep pace with her. "No, I meant more like, d'you want to do something?"

She frowned, confused.

"Is the essay not doing something?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, feeling his cheeks go hot as he realized she didn't understand what he was trying to ask, and he didn't want to ask it in the middle of the Great Hall, where everyone could hear. He'd wait for another time. There was always more time.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine have had the date, Jason's pondering following the example of his sisters, and Sirius is still blissfully clueless.**

 **Review Prompt: Tell me about your first date. And if you had a chance to swap with Kitty and Harry, would you do it?**

 **I totally would. Every time I go on a date, I'm never as happy as I feel I'm supposed to be. It's why I've just stopped dating. Not worth the time and effort just to be disappointed.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: About when will Sirius discover Harry and Catherine's relationship? (ravenclauses)**

 **A: Well… think about counting it more in weeks than months. It'll be in the winter, so you won't have to wait for the end of the year or anything. But winter is several months long, so that doesn't feel quite like a spoiler. :D**

 **Q: I'm curious to know who the antagonist will end up being. (Disabled Antag)**

 **A: Great question. The antagonist will be someone who's had occasional POV thus far, and was basically a non-entity in the books. I'm pretty sure she was just written to allow all the major characters to have a Yule Ball date. But the year's end, it should be very clear. Let's just say the antagonist is going to be someone who has an unhealthy interest in Catherine and an altogether too-clever mind.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	89. Quidditch Madness

**A/N: Here's Bonus One! You've earned two so far, so expect another today. And** _ **AvinaNox**_ **is still getting caught up, so there may well be more. ;)**

 **-C**

When Jason finally got around to asking Natalie on a proper date – apparently using advice from his mother and a little help from his elder sister – Cora and Natalie had been so excited that Cora could still feel the lingering excitement from the initial news. She was trying to focus her attention, though, on Natalie's hair, which they couldn't decide what to do with.

"He likes it down," Cora said thoughtfully, "but you wear it down all the time."

Natalie bit down on her lower lip slightly considering her reflection. Cora frowned inwardly, knowing they'd have to redo Natalie's lip gloss before sending her down to meet Jason.

"But I don't want, like, a bun or something," Natalie said anxiously. "I like having hair around my face."

More like she liked hiding behind the hair that was around her face, but Cora said nothing, just carefully combing out the pale locks.

"What if I do a kind of braided twist?" Cora said thoughtfully. "The shorter pieces will fall loose as I work, and we can just leave those down."

Natalie hesitated as she tried to decide if this would be sufficient hair left down, but she nodded, which gave Cora a sense of relief. She could finally start work. She grabbed a hair tie and a proper brush and instructed her friend to reapply lip gloss while she worked. With a sheepish look, Natalie grabbed the tube of lip gloss and unscrewed the applicator.

"Are you sure lip gloss is necessary?" she asked anxiously.

"It is if you want him to kiss you."

"But I don't know that I want him to kiss me!" Natalie said, blushing furiously. "We've not even been on a date yet!"

Cora could have laughed, but she thought that might be a bit cruel, so she pressed her lips together as she began twisting the braid, carefully turning it as she worked. Natalie absolutely wanted Jason to kiss her, and she could tell from the way he was watching her lately that he wanted to kiss her. The difference between him and his sisters, however, was night and day, and he needed a little push in the right direction to get him going.

"There," Cora said, tying up the hair and carefully pinning it. She thought about using a charm to be sure that the pins didn't slip out of Natalie's almost painfully silky hair, but she thought Natalie might frown on that. "Don't touch it, because you know your hair. But it should hold, and it looks lovely."

Natalie's face twitched slightly in an expression Cora liked to believe was a kind of agreement with Cora's assessment. Because it did look lovely, and Jason was going to be floored when he saw her, and Cora half wished she could follow them so she could watch them looking so lovely.

But that was taking things a bit far. She'd probably try to keep Jimmy and Dennis on top of their homework. That was a massive undertaking in and of itself.

/-/

Rabastan paid his sister a visit, as he was trying to do semi-regularly. She was, after all, alone much of the year. Cara made tea, and she was telling him stories about her children from school, and he made a small joke about Catherine's engagement, of sorts.

"Are you going to Selwyn Manor for Christmas again?" he asked.

"Yes, we are," Cara said, smiling as she poured more tea. "Do you want to join us for Christmas dinner?"

Rabastan smirked, leaned forward, and said, "Tell you what. If you get Severus to come to Christmas dinner, I will absolutely be there."

Cara gave him a small smile, one that looked demure and amused, but Rabastan knew her well enough to know she was sly. She was already trying to think of a way to rope Severus into doing his duty as Catherine's fiancé and come to family events. Lucky for Severus, Rabastan thought as he took a sip of tea, the Blacks had impressively few family events for a family of their stature.

/-/

Breathless.

That was how Jason felt as he tickled the pear to get them into the kitchens. Natalie looked even more lovely than usual, and his hands were sweaty, and he was so excited to use his family's in-depth knowledge of the school to make the date perfect.

"Oh my god," Natalie said, gasping as he let her step first into the kitchens. "This is…is…."

"Yeah," Jason said, feeling his chest swell with pride. "It's the kitchens."

She turned to look at him with wide, amazed eyes. She had pretty eyes, he thought, feeling like he was somehow buzzing like a bee.

"But how did you know where, and how, and…"

"My sister," he said, shrugging. He gestured for her to sit down, which she did, and he asked the elves to bring them some food, and when asked what they would like, he looked to Natalie. She shrugged, and he asked for the elves to surprise them. "See, when my father was in school, he and some of his friends made a magical map of the school from their adventures. And she, erm, retrieved it, and she's been using it. She let me borrow it to plan the date, but I've given it back."

"So, that's why she's always out and about but never in detention for it," Natalie said, her lips twitching with amusement as an elf appeared at her elbow.

The elves wanted to know what they wanted to drink. Jason hesitated. His sister would have gotten something alcoholic, and Harry would have done the same. Jason had tried his father's alcohol with Caroline, but Natalie didn't seem like someone who wanted to do that.

"D'you like cocoa?" he asked, deciding that was enough different from the usual fare that it might make things special.

"Yeah," Natalie said, smiling. "Who doesn't?"

Jason laughed and ordered two cocoas, which the elf hurried to prepare. He always felt a little bit bad about the situation of house-elves, but with the new legislation Cora's mother was putting through, the elves who wanted compensation were getting it, and within the next generation it would become standard to give elves compensation, with hopes to grow standard amounts with time.

Natalie licked her lips and looked at the quickly working elves. Jason wondered if it was possible that she was as nervous and excited as he felt. Was this how Harry felt when he was on a date with Catherine? Was this how Damon felt when Caroline was ordering him around?

He had a stab of fear when he wondered what they would talk about. He didn't want to talk about school or their friends or anything they usually talked about. What was left? What did he have to say?

But when the elves brought them seafood stew and Natalie asked him what his favorite place to vacation was, Jason relaxed slightly, telling her about the trip his family and the Potters had taken to France a few years back.

/-/

Anthony Goldstein flicked a bit of rolled up parchment at Michael, who had fallen asleep doing an essay for Snape.

"Oi," Anthony said as his friend started awake. "Are there going to be any Quidditch openings?"

"No," Michael said, rolling over and frowning. "Leave me alone."

"Fine," Anthony said, smiling to himself. "I guess Professor Snape won't mind if it's not fully finished."

That jerked Michael awake, and he sat up looking around, puzzled. He realized he had the essay beside him and he rubbed his eyes, muttering something about how he hated Potions, and he read back over what he'd done so far to get a sense of where he'd fallen asleep.

Anthony tried not to laugh at his friend as he turned to his own work, readying another little ball of parchment, just in case. He'd known, of course, there were no open Quidditch positions. He was trying to think of something that would get Michael's attention long enough to make the barb about Potions.

Michael's eyes were already drooping, and Anthony decided next he'd ask about Michael's ex-girlfriend. He had to think of something that was pointed enough to get his attention without offending anyone. Not an easy task.

/-/

At the end of the date, Jason was buzzing even more. He and Natalie had a wonderful time, eating, swapping stories, having three cups of cocoa each. He was already thinking of what they could do next time, and as they got up to leave the kitchens, he realized that he hadn't actually asked her if there would be another date. Very slightly, he began to panic, wondering if maybe she hadn't had as good of a time as him, and how awkward things with their friends would be if she now didn't want to have another date.

To his relief, as they stepped into the corridor, she slipped her hand into his, gave him a reassuring smile, and he felt like a king. His plans for the next date began whirring through his brain again at full speed.

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Sandra Rosier read a letter from home as the door to the common room opened and Brontes Lestrange walked in with Astoria Greengrass. She wondered vaguely if they might be courting, but then she remembered Astoria was always hanging around Draco, and Draco didn't seem to push her away like he did with everyone else.

Brontes sat down near Sandra and pulled out his Potions book, flipping through it.

"Will it be weird?" Sandra asked, pressing with a smirk. "Having Professor Snape in the family."

"Hardly," Brontes said, ignoring the comment on the whole. "And if I were you, I'd be careful where you discuss that."

She frowned slightly, feeling deflated at the lack of satisfactory remark. He wasn't wrong, of course. Professor Snape had been brutal to those he caught gossiping about his engagement to Catherine Black, but Sandra had such a hard time not gossiping about anything of note.

/-/

Being Quidditch Captain was far more exhausting than Harry had anticipated. He'd watched Angelina and Oliver do all the work, but he hadn't realized just how much would be on his shoulders, especially with four positions to fill.

Chasers came out in droves, and other people showed, wanting to try for reserves or to challenges for already-filled positions. Cormac McLaggen, for example, tried to challenge Ron for the Keeper position.

The Beaters were nearly impossible to fill, but there were a couple of younger guys who would be reasonable following to the Weasley twins. To Harry they seemed so young, but Jimmy and Ritchie were in Jason's and Caroline's years respectively, and Ritchie even had a long conversation with Caroline while those trying out were warming up. Harry knew their eagerness to learn would be a great boon, in their position more than any other.

Filling the Chaser positions was much harder. Harry managed to thin the herd with flying exercises, but Katie and Harry both thought there were so many excellent options that he sat down with her after the trials with his notes, going over them.

"I know it seems obvious because she's been a reserve for a bit now," Katie said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, "but I think Ginny should be right up there. I know I can work with her, and she's got a great natural feel for the game. I could see her being Captain after you graduate."

Harry agreed and wrote in Ginny's name. The trick, then, was to decide which of the other three they'd narrowed it down to would be a better match with Ginny and Katie.

They'd slimmed the field down to Dean, Caroline, and a girl Harry didn't really know named Demelza. He scratched his nose.

"I'm torn here," he said. "I'm going to bounce this off you and you tell me what you think." Katie nodded and Harry sighed. "Right, so Caroline's brilliant, obviously. A real talent, and a fighting spirit, but she's very young and there's still room for growth there. Plus, if I pick her, they might think I'm being unfair. And Dean might have very good chemistry with Ginny."

"Or," Katie said softly, "if they break up it might spoil the team chemistry entirely."

Harry hummed and looked down at his notes on Demelza. Katie didn't know her very well, either, and he scratched his nose again.

"What about this," he said, pressing his hands on the table. "What about we name Demelza and then have the other two as reserves? We could always change it later, if we need to."

Katie mulled this over and Harry waited patiently until she told him she thought this would be a suitable, practical plan, and he sighed, quickly jotting down the new team list, adding the new reserves to the bottom, and he prepared himself for pinning it up in the common room. He knew there would be a crowd, as there had been the year before, and he didn't want to show any emotion on his face for fear someone would call him out on some decision or other.

The one that really worried him was Caroline. She'd hex him if she wasn't happy, and he wasn't sure she wasn't already a better duelist than her sister.

/-/

To say Ritchie was buzzing with excitement would have been an understatement, so he didn't bother trying to get himself to calm down. He was worried he'd be so anxious he'd make a fool of himself during practices, but Harry Potter had given him such a reassuring smile. It was pleasant, and Ritchie knew he could only get better.

Caroline Black had managed to carry her head high, despite only making the reserve list, but as Ritchie overheard her telling her brother, she was only in her second year. She hardly expected to be lighting up the world on the Quidditch pitch.

"Demelza," Caroline said, frowning as she looked at the list. Ritchie watched her come over to sit by him and Jimmy and Jason, and she frowned all the deeper. "I don't know her at all. Did you think she was better than me?"

Jimmy and Ritchie exchanged a glance. They weren't going to say a word, because they knew angering Caroline Black was a dangerous thing, and they weren't entirely sure what she wanted to hear.

"No, Caro," Jason said, squeezing her had affectionately. "She was fine, but I wouldn't say she was any better than you. Maybe about the same."

Well-managed, Ritchie thought as Caroline's shoulders relaxed and she nodded, moving close to her brother and allowing him to wrap an arm around her.

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When the Quidditch teams were set and practices began, rumors and even some light curses began flying. Such things always happened prior to Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches, and it was only a matter of time before the issues began kicking up a notch between the two Houses, but Demelza was trying to focus on her Quidditch and watch her back and not worry about whispers.

She'd never dreamed of being accepted into the first team, figuring she'd make reserves and prove her worth, maybe be a regular in a couple of years' time. Working with Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell, however, seemed to come quite naturally to her, and she felt she was well-placed for making her mark on the Gryffindor team.

Ritchie and Jimmy were raw, rawer than she was, but Caroline Black, as it happened, spent half her time at practice – on Harry's orders – helping them polish their skills, because on top of being a well-practiced and talented Chaser, Caroline happened to be at least as fierce as a Bludger, and had enough shrieking inside of her to focus entirely on them, leaving Harry free to think about other aspects of preparation. It was funny, but Demelza supposed it probably wasn't as much for Ritchie and Jimmy.

"Right, team," Harry said after about four practices. "We're developing well, but the Slytherin match isn't going to be easy. What I need from you is to stay diligent, learn these formations, and keep your fitness levels up. Demelza, can you do a daily run?"

Her stomach turned at the thought, but she nodded nervously, and he told her he'd draw up a special physical training schedule to help each person get up to optimum fitness for the season.

"I also expect those of you wanting to return next season," he said sternly, "to maintain their fitness over the summer."

Demelza bit back the groan that was flurrying up in her chest.

/-/

Tabatha was frustrated she hadn't made the Hufflepuff team, even as a reserve, but Cadwaller hadn't been interested in reserves. He was looking for a new Seeker to train, and beyond that he wasn't even glancing at his options.

So, she was watching the build-up in the halls to the start of the season, to the chaos between Slytherin and Gryffindor as they always had chaos, as a spectator once more. Her friends had been sympathetic and her Uncle Ludo had sent her a letter telling her he knew she'd make it next year, but she couldn't escape the feeling that she'd let people down, if only herself.

As if sensing her despondency, Professor Lupin held her after class one day, handed her a bar of chocolate when the room cleared and said, "I don't feel like eating it, and you look like you could use it."

Tabatha tried to argue, but he gave her a kind smile, insisted, and said, "You're a good student, Tabatha. Great reflexes. I could see you being a Quidditch Captain someday, you know."

The idea of one day being Captain had never crossed her mind, but with this praise and the chocolate she had accepted mutely, she walked out of his classroom feeling taller, brighter, lighter.

 **A/N: So, Jason and Natalie are dating, Harry is growing into the captaincy, and Caroline is a training program all on her own.**

 **Review Prompt: I was about to give you guys a weirdly esoteric prompt, but instead, I'm going to ask – if you were a Marauder and you were looking to retire, what would be your big indulgence purpose? You can give one generally, pick a Marauder, or pick one for each (pretend James is working somewhere, or that Lily is retiring).**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How many chapters ahead are you in terms of writing? (whiteoak123)**

 **A: Great question. There's a couple of ways for me to express how far ahead I've written. One way is saying I've finished this story and I've half-written Part 3. Another is saying that in the saga, I've written 84 chapters ahead of this point. Another is that this chapter I'm posting now? I wrote it mid-June. Helps me give you guys bonuses as you earn them, as well as regular weekly chapters.**

 **Q: Does Narcissa know about Astoria? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: In the way certain mothers just know things, she does know SOMETHING, but she's not fully aware that it's Astoria he's interested in, nor the depth of his intentions and interest. But it won't come as any shock to her, no. I doubt many things shock Narcissa, although Sirius's family gives her a few healthy doses of surprise.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	90. Ebb and Flow

**A/N: Here's this week's second bonus! Want more before Saturday? Review, review, review! Plenty of time to earn more bonuses!**

 **-C**

Harry stood on the pitch, looking at the grass, feeling it under his feet, trying to decide how the weather would force them to play. He was stunned out of his reverie when he felt arms snake around his waist.

"Surprise," Catherine's voice said, with a muted laugh that might have been a giggle if it hadn't been in her throat.

He closed his eyes and smiled, touching her hands where they met just above his navel.

"You're going to distract me," he said. "If we lose, the Gryffindors would never forgive you."

"Like I care," she teased, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "I wanted to sneak down here before Daddy comes to the pitch because I'll need to be in the stands by then."

Harry turned around, trying to frown at her, but he couldn't do it. All he wanted was to press her to something and kiss her like the world was ending, but he had responsibilities to his team, and he didn't want to be caught by her father. If Harry was afraid of anything in the world, the top thing was of Catherine and the second was of her father's wrath.

"Is that new perfume?" he asked, leaning in for a sniff. Her eyes closed and she smirked moving a hand to trace her fingers into the base of his hair. It was some pleasant floral scent he couldn't have named if he tried.

Her eyes opened, dark and warm. He licked his lips and was about to kiss her when he heard the sound of the door to the changing rooms open. Harry pulled away from her, nervous.

Ginny raised an amused eyebrow at them, dressed in her Quidditch robes, and he sighed, frustrated. If he'd known it was only Ginny, he wouldn't have cared about kissing Catherine.

"We're looking for you," Ginny said, winking at her best friend. "Demelza's looking like she's going to be sick. We need a pep talk before she loses the plot."

"I'll be right in," Harry said, giving her a significant look before turning back to Catherine and kissing her. She tried to coax him in to a deeper kiss, but he had too many things pulling at his attention this morning to be seduced into forgetting them. She didn't seem disappointed that she was unsuccessful, and when he watched her walk away to find a place in the stands, he gave his head a little shake to try to clear his mind of her scent before walking back into the changing rooms.

Ginny had organized everyone, and Harry did have to admit Demelza looked a bit peaky and pale. He wondered if she'd eaten enough at breakfast, but he didn't have much time to think about that. He had to get them into mental shape before the stands became full of students and the Slytherins showed up at the pitch.

"I'm not going to say this will be easy," Harry said softly. "Draco's a good captain, and he's put together a strong, physical side. They're not going to be afraid of fouls, even ugly ones. Jimmy, Ritchie, you'll need to have a lot of force behind the Bludgers. Crabbe and Goyle certainly will do. Ginny, I want you to organize the Chasers today. I'm thinking we can get some good shapes moving forward. Bletchley is good, but he can be drawn away from his far post if you're diligent. Be ready to take advantage of that."

He looked around at them and licked his lips.

"Katie, I want you taking the penalties for today."

She nodded. It wasn't that he thought she was the best Chaser, and she was certainly the most familiar to the opposition, but she had the coolest head, and until he could see more of how Ginny worked in a match, he wasn't prepared to put her in that kind of position. Instead, he wanted someone he knew would be able to handle the pressures. Yes, Angelina had always taken the penalties in the past, but that was because she'd had more experience than Katie to begin with.

"Now," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, right where Catherine had kissed. "Let's take some time, relax, think about what we've practiced. Change. And when we go out there, let's have some fun. Don't let them get under our skin."

/-/

Neville sat with Hermione in the stands, and he wasn't surprised when Catherine led Rhea and Luna over to them, sitting right in front of them.

"Did you go to see Harry?" he asked, grinning at her.

Catherine just smirked and shrugged like the cat that got the cream and Neville shook his head, hoping whatever she did or said motivated Harry rather than distracted him. Neville wouldn't put it past her to sabotage the match one way or the other to help her House win the Quidditch Cup, although he wasn't entirely certain she cared about the Cup. Likely it would be more to prove she could.

"Oh, here they come," Hermione said, clapping anxiously, smiling as Harry led the Gryffindor team onto the pitch. Ron looked a bit anxious, but he held his head high, and Neville thought Demelza, the young Chaser, looked like she was going to sick all over Madam Hooch's robes. Draco shook Harry's hand and the two of them didn't try to break each other's bones like Wood and Flint always had. Instead, it was clear the kind of respect they had for each other, and Neville smiled to himself.

A new era, he thought, lacing his fingers in Hermione's and bracing himself for the kickoff.

/-/

Ginny felt on fire during the match. Bletchley seemed out of sorts during, and he didn't seem to know quite what to do with Demelza, who was sneaky and much harder to read than Ginny or Katie. On the flip side, Ron seemed to be having the match of his life. Everything the Slytherin Chaser brought his way he was brushing aside with ease, and Vaisey in particular was beginning to grow frustrated as the scoreline grew more and more lopsided.

/-/

Rhea watched the match with a keen and careful eye. She knew part of her job as a Ravenclaw Quidditch player was to return to practice with notes for Roger Davies, their captain, to consider as they looked forward toward matches against both teams. She'd asked Catherine for help in deciphering some of Harry's beliefs and habits, but Catherine refused. Not so much, Rhea knew, because Catherine didn't want to betray her boyfriend. More because she was apt to slip those types of notes to Cadwaller so Hufflepuff could win.

The battle above the match between Harry and Draco was of particular interest to Rhea. She knew she should be watching the Chasers and Keepers, but Roger and Michael would do that. Cho was the only person who was looking at the Seekers, and Rhea knew it never hurt to have two eyes watching the same thing.

At least, this was what she told herself as she watched them battle, but really it was just far more interesting to her, knowing both boys and their strange kind of friendship as she did.

/-/

Draco knew he'd lost the match when Harry darted off after the tiny glimpse metallic gleam that Draco had seen just a fraction of a second too late. There would be no redeeming the flight, but just in case Harry had some kind of mistake or accident, Draco had darted off in the same direction.

Still, the match was lost, and everything hit him as a kind of emptiness as he landed on the grass of the pitch. He gave Harry a brief pat on the back and headed directly for the showers as the Gryffindors celebrated on the pitch. Draco told a couple of his players they'd done well, particularly Vaisey. He could rip them apart in practice. They felt bad enough for the moment.

He stripped off his robes, down to nothing, and stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water falling over his skin. He wondered what Harry would have done in his place, but then he shook his head and smiled to himself.

Harry would have caught the Snitch regardless, and that was why Draco didn't expect to win the Quidditch Cup. Harry was too good, and could probably play for England right now, forget someday. Draco knew his father would be disappointed, but at this point he was well past caring. After his father's pathetic attempt to get Catherine and Draco engaged without even asking Draco if he would want that, Draco really didn't care what his father wanted.

Draco toweled dry, dressed, and walked out of the changing rooms toward the castle completely unbothered by the loss. He was ready to go back to his dormitory and do some reading for Potions, where Harry was unpredictably slaughtering him. He suspected Harry was getting help from Catherine, and given the looks Professor Snape was giving him, that was the official supposition as well.

He was drawn out of his reverie by someone saying his name softly, and he turned his head to see Astoria watching him with her slick dark hair in perfect loose curls around her face. For a brief moment he thought he should check his hair, but he restrained himself and gave her a tight smile. He thought she was planning to give him her condolences and apologies for the result, but she said nothing, just walking in step with him toward the castle, although he slowed his pace to enjoy the walk more.

"Do you have a lot of work to do today?" she asked, casual as you please.

Draco felt relief at the question, as though he was afraid of her pointing out his failures.

"Some," he said, feeling a strange rush as she brushed out her eyes a bit of hair that had flown in her face. He couldn't figure why that would make a difference to how he felt, but it did. "Do you?"

"Hardly any," she said, smiling that gentle, unassuming smile. "I've been keeping up with it fairly well. I was hoping, if you're not too busy, that perhaps you could take some time to look over my Charms essay."

Draco frowned slightly. Charms? He wasn't bad at Charms, but it was hardly his best subject. He was about to suggest someone else who would be better at Charms to aid her when she said, "Perhaps, if you're not too busy, we could go to the library later and go over it? Unless you can think of somewhere…quieter."

As soon as he realized this actually had nothing to do with her Charms essay Draco was stumbling over his words to agree to meet her, regardless of his schedule. He could work it out.

/-/

Jimmy felt like he was on top of the world when he went back to the common room where a party was in full swing. He sat down with Jason and Natalie, who were having punch in the corner, talking animatedly about something. Knowing them, it was probably about schoolwork, but Jimmy brightened when Cora joined them. He wasn't sure if Cora was actually interested in him, but Jimmy was going to try to get her attention anyway.

"What did you think?" he asked her, feeling his heart pounding. "Did you enjoy the match, Cora?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. She tucked a bit of ginger hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it was good. Always good when we win, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, kicking himself internally. He couldn't think of something better to say? It was difficult to think of something to say when he so badly wanted to impress her. How did Jason find things to say to Natalie? Jimmy wished he understood women like Jason did. Perhaps it was from having sisters.

"I think that went well, don't you?" Dennis asked as he sat with them, a plate full of sweets in his hands. "A biscuit, Natalie?"

She shook her head and softly declined, turning back to her quiet conversation with Jason, who was smiling and brushing his fingers against hers. Jimmy closed his eyes and shook his head when Dennis pressed the plate in his direction.

Some blokes just knew everything.

/-/

Natalie spotted it first, and she pointed it out to Jason, who had been so transfixed in what she was saying, he didn't seem to notice much outside of their little bubble in the common room.

Although the whole of the Gryffindor team had won the match, Ron Weasley was getting the bulk of the congratulations. His work at the posts had meant Slytherin didn't manage to score a single point, which Natalie hadn't seen since she began at Hogwarts. And Slytherin wasn't a poor team.

He was starting to get a bit of a stir, being cheered and egged on doing something. At first, she thought he was probably chugging something or eating something. Boys could be stupid about that kind of thing. When she looked up, however, she was stunned to see him being pulled in to kiss…someone.

"Who is that?" she asked softly, gesturing toward the entangled pair.

Jason's eyes turned to where she gestured and at first he blinked with surprise as the pair snogged each other's faces off. He turned his head to the side slightly to try to get a better look and he said, "Ron and…Lavender?"

Her eyebrows twitched upward as she turned back. Definitely light hair. Jason said he thought it was her because he thought he saw her wearing her hair like that at the match. He had such an eye for detail, and a memory for it, that she found that impressive in a way that made her shoulders feel warm.

"Are they…dating?"

"Not that I know of," he said, shrugging. "But she's had a crush on him since…September, anyway. She's been trying to get his attention."

Natalie hummed, glancing back to Jason, who was watching her with thoughtful eyes, and she wished she could see things the way he did, with such careful attention. She wondered if the world would look different through his eyes.

/-/

Laura Madley wrote a letter to her parents to confirm that she was coming home for Christmas. She had a lot of work to do, and while she knew she could theoretically get it done while she was at the school with the library there, she also knew that if Kevin stayed as well, they'd distract each other too much to actually do any of their work. At home, her parents would give her space, quiet, and resources she needed to get her work done, and then they would simply be pleased of her company and have no further expectations of her.

She carefully changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and went to bed with a tired sigh. It would be interesting, she mused to herself, to see what the school looked like after such a summary dispatching of the Slytherin team by Gryffindor.

No doubt, she thought, the Slytherins would be brutal and disappointed about the whole thing, and she supposed the chaos was bound to only get uglier.

/-/

"They're disgusting," Hermione said, practically stabbing her wand at the birds she had practiced making for Charms. Neville was giving her a muted look, but she knew he was amused by her extreme reaction to Ron and Lavender quite suddenly snogging each other's faces off in the middle of the common room. "I mean, there were children present."

"I doubt they're scarred for life," Neville said in his reasonable way. He sat beside her. "They've probably seen worse. I know I have. I walked in on Kitty and Harry snogging the other day and I felt like gouging my own eyes out."

He didn't understand, and Hermione wasn't about to try to explain it to him. She was too mortified.

It wasn't that she and Neville hadn't kissed, and even sort of snogged. It was that seeing the passionate, almost animalistic way some of their peers snogged after so short a time together made her feel…naïve. She wasn't naïve, but it made her wonder if perhaps Neville wouldn't rather be with someone who was willing to…snog his socks off in the middle of a crowded room. Harry always looked at Catherine like a devoted puppy, and Ron certainly seemed satisfied by whatever Lavender was doing to his mouth. Even Ginny snogged her boyfriends in public – not that Ron took that well, the hypocrite.

Neville seemed to understand her distress had nothing to do with the situation, exactly, and he took her hands, kissing the backs of them gently.

"Just forget about it, love," he said with a small smile. "She'll drive him crazy and I'm betting she'll be out of his life by Christmas. We only have to deal with this for a limited stretch of time."

Hermione hummed and rubbed her thumbs across his fingers, feeling the coolness of his skin and the familiar texture of his hand with a sigh of almost relief. Neville was not Harry, and he most certainly wasn't Ron. Neville had chosen her, knowing full well what she was and what he was getting, and it was silly to be afraid they would outgrow each other when all indications seemed to tell her that they were growing – quite happily – in the same direction.

"Can we practice Charms?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Looks like you're doing pretty well without practice," he teased, gesturing to the birds that had continued their flight without her attention. Hermione smiled and closed her eyes, feeling a warm flicker of pride in her chest at his quiet praise.

 **A/N: So, hormones abound, and we have a decent cross-section of the relationships at Hogwarts. Also, Harry has a boss Quidditch team and Catherine's Quidditch goals are still unclear.**

 **Review Prompt: Who bothered you more while reading, Lavender or Cho? I couldn't stand Lavender, because at least Cho had a reason for being neurotic. I mean, her boyfriend was murdered and half the world kept saying it was a tragic accident while the other half insisted he was killed by an evil Dark Lord. Lavender? She was just immature and clingy. But that's me…. What about you?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Laura and Kevin have more significance later? (EmilyRae92)**

 **A: YES. I push them consistently because they're going to be rather important characters later, particularly Laura. Plus, I like them. They're just so NORMAL, and with this set of children, that's saying something quite substantial.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	91. Sharp Reality

**A/N: Here's Bonus Three for the week! I think y'all will be pleased, big moments here. Excited to get your input.**

 **-C**

Sirius was thrilled to be having Christmas at Selwyn Manor again, and when he ushered the children – just his and Harry this year – into the house, he felt a huge swell of pride looking around the entryway. Harry and Catherine hurried upstairs straight away, and Sirius saw the pack of cigarettes poking out of his daughter's jacket pocket. He pursed his lips and wished he'd managed to quit when he was younger, wished he hadn't set that example for his daughter, but he supposed there were worse habits she could have. He was too weak to be a hypocrite and tell her she should stop when he still smoked them when he grew too frustrated to focus his thoughts.

"Darling," Cara said, kissing his cheek as he automatically wrapped his arms around her. "You're a million miles away."

"No," he said, smiling and looking down at her at last, marveling as he always did at how wonderfully beautiful she was, how incredibly lucky he was. "No, I'm right here. I just…was thinking about things I should have done differently."

Cara gave him a quizzical look but he shook his head. He would tell her later, when he finally asked what they should do about Catherine's smoking, and whether Jason and Caroline were likely to pick up the habit as well.

"Sirius?" Lily called from down the hall. "What time do you want to do dinner? Traffic was atrocious. We're much later than usual."

He scratched his chin and called for Dobby.

The elf appeared, happy to see him, as always. Sirius smiled and said, "Dobby, when can you have dinner ready?"

"Right away, Master Sirius," Dobby said cheerfully. "Whenever would be best."

"Well, then," Sirius said brightly, looking at Lily, who had poked her head back into the room. "Why don't we say…ten minutes? Let the kids know, will you, Cara?"

Cara nodded and glided up the staircase, and Sirius gestured for Lily to follow him through to the dining room, which she did.

"You saw the cigarettes," Lily said with a knowing grin. Damn, she was so clever.

"How long have they been smoking?"

"They?" Lily said with an amused smile. "No, you guessed right, Sirius. Kitty and Harry have been smoking and probably drinking together for at least a year." She seemed to hesitate, on the verge of saying something to him, but she shook her head, smiled and said, "I'm alright with it. He's never once pulled out a pack of cigarettes with his parents in the room, so he's obviously got some control over himself."

Sirius hummed. If he were to guess, it was more that Catherine had control over them both, but it felt a bit strange to say out loud about his daughter, even to Lily. She probably knew, anyway. He made his excuses to check on James with the parking and he stepped out of the house, pulling his own cigarettes out of his pocket, looking at the pack and feeling a kind of melancholy in his chest.

He saved her from a war and yet her life wasn't the peaceful, perfect, ideal childhood he had always wanted for his children. Was that just part of raising children? Or had his demons infected them, in some small way, despite all his efforts?

/-/

Rose sat down with her mother in the kitchen, watching her make a Christmas pudding. Rose was hopeless at baking, but she loved the smell of the process.

"Are you disappointed not to be spending Christmas with your friends this year?" her mother asked.

Rose shrugged. She hadn't expected an invitation to the Black family home every year, but it would certainly be strange to have Christmas at home after all those people. Her mother asked her to tell her about last year's Christmas, and Rose began describing it, beginning with how many people spent the break together.

"My goodness," her mother said, paling. "How big is their house?"

"Well, I don't know about their place in London," Rose said honestly, with a small shrug of her left shoulder, "but we didn't fill all the rooms in Selwyn Manor."

Her mother seemed astonished and maybe even a little dismayed at the word "manor" but she politely listened to the rest of Rose's story, regardless.

/-/

It took almost a week for things to boil over. Harry had tried to be good, knowing Uncle Sirius could walk in at any moment, here more so than Grimmauld Place. But he couldn't tell himself no entirely.

Harry told himself that stealing a kiss would be fine, even in her father's house. No one would catch a quick kiss, and no one would ever have to know, and he could be satisfied with short and sweet moments.

Of course, Catherine had to be far too enticing for her own good. He stole a kiss in her father's study while they were looking for books to pass the time with, and just as he was going to pull away, Catherine put her hand on his neck and pulled him closer, holding him there as much with the nibbling of his lip as with her hand. Harry felt a familiar stirring in the base of his stomach, and he felt his hands move about her waist, feeling the heat of her body radiate to her fingertips through the fabric of her blouse.

He parted his lips slightly, and Catherine followed his example to nuzzle their mouths together. He could taste her warm breath as his fingers traced up her torso to the swell of her breasts. Of course, he shouldn't be doing this, he thought briefly, but she didn't push him away. Harry's hand seemed to take this as encouragement, and he ran his fingers along the outside of her breast in a circle, then across the front of them. He caught his breath as he felt her nipples straining through the layers of fabric. He had an urge to slip his hand under the fabric, but he was worried his hands were too cold.

Catherine took his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked on it, which was a surprisingly pleasant sensation. His knees shook at the sensation, and she gave him a smile of encouragement through the kiss as he squeezed her breast gently through the fabric. He was beginning to lose the internal battle about whether to slip his hands under her shirt when the door opened.

The pair were too dazed to react quickly, and it was the stern, if a bit surprised, voice of Uncle Sirius that drew Harry back into the coldness of reality. He'd never seen Uncle Sirius looking so…horrified.

"Catherine," Uncle Sirius said coolly. "Harry."

"Daddy," Catherine said nervously, hastily pulling away from Harry, whose hands had unfortunately frozen on her body instead of falling to his side. Her beautiful brown eyes went wide as she looked up at her father's face, and she was clearly trying to think of how to talk them out of this. "I…."

When she could come up with nothing to say, her father, who to Harry's knowledge had never _truly_ disciplined her outside of school, said, "Your room, Catherine. Now. Harry…." He inhaled sharply through flared nostrils. Harry watched his godfather pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes before he said, "Harry, go…. Just go. Just…. Talk to your mother or something. Just get out of my study."

Catherine and Harry exchanged nervous looks, but they hastened to do as they were told. As the door to the sitting room slammed closed behind them Harry gave Catherine a nervous look and she said, "He'll…be fine. He just…he's used to seeing me as a little girl. He'll be fine. Eventually."

But Harry was worried that before eventually happened, he'd suffer some horrific accident.

/-/

Draco actually laughed at the anxious letter Harry sent him, asking advice on how to make Uncle Sirius happy with him again. Although Harry didn't say what he'd done, it didn't take any imagination for Draco to guess what the problem was. Catherine and Harry had been behaving…naughty somewhere at Selwyn Manor and they were caught by her father. Draco wondered what they had done, but he supposed it couldn't have been anything too terrible.

Harry was still alive, after all.

With a cheeky note back telling Harry he should make certain his affairs were in order and perhaps never look at Catherine in her father's presence again, Draco decided to go flying around the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Anything, really, to keep from thinking about Catherine and Harry snogging.

/-/

After Harry looked like he'd seen a ghost and Catherine appeared remarkably hesitant around her father at dinner, Lily knocked on the door to Sirius's study. When he didn't answer, she said, "It's me, Padfoot. I brought brandy."

Hesitation, and then, the door opened. Sirius looked tired, anxious, and relieved to see her. She lifted the bottle slightly and he ushered her in, closing and locking the door behind them. James had said to leave it be, but Lily knew they needed to have a talk.

"Has Harry told you?" he asked, pouring them some of the alcohol.

"No," she said, smiling to herself. "But judging by everyone's behavior, I can guess. You wouldn't be like this over drugs or alcohol."

He inhaled sharply through his teeth before passing her a glass and saying, "His hand was on my daughter's breast, Lily. I…I…."

"She's not a little girl anymore, Sirius," Lily said softly, sitting down on his desk as he paced. She didn't bother taking a drink of the brandy as he downed his in one. "She's practically a woman."

"Lily."

She sat a bit straighter and said, "No, Sirius. If they're old enough to smoke cigarettes and drink your alcohol without us saying a word, then they're old enough to snog, if they're not stupid about it. And they're Prefects, Sirius. They're intelligent, responsible, good kids with slightly rebellious streaks. Sound like anyone we know?"

He closed his eyes and she knew he was thinking back to school, to Remus and Lily and James and even himself. To the growing, looming war and all the silly mistakes they'd made. Lily expected he was comparing this to some of the things they had all done when they were young. She wasn't too much older than Harry when James had first squeezed her breast through her blouse. And she didn't dress anything like some of the outfits Catherine wore, likely selected to tease Harry.

What Lily hadn't expected was to see Sirius begin to tremble, squeezing his eyes tight to keep as much of his tears from leaking as possible. She stood abruptly, setting the brandy aside without a second thought as he collapsed to his knees at her feet. He shook all the more violently as she knelt beside him, hugging him to her chest.

"I can't," he said, barely a whisper. "I can't. I can't." Lily just smoothed his hair, astonished by the transformation. When he gathered himself enough to speak he choked out, "Lily, I'm not ready for her to be grown up. I can't…. She's my baby. I need her to be my baby." He opened his eyes, shining and bright. "I see myself in her, and what if I…. Did I not do enough? Was it not enough? Is she okay?"

Lily had no idea what to say, how to answer these questions. Perhaps he didn't want her to. She sighed, kissing his temple and wondering if he'd ever articulated this to Cara, or if his wife somehow knew and didn't press the matter. Cara could be quite prescient.

As it happened, Lily had often wondered if she'd done enough for Harry, if she'd made the right choices. Had she let James spoil him too much? Had she trusted too heavily in his responsibility and given him too free of a hand? Were cigarettes and alcohol and snogging the worst of it, or were Catherine and Harry partaking in more? With Catherine's skill in Potions and lack of inhibition, Lily knew the kinds of drugs at their disposal.

But Lily had to trust they were alright, that things had been done well, because there was no turning it back and doing it over. Sirius was strong, and if Catherine was healthy and happy she thought he would come around. But how long it would take, after a breakdown like this, she really couldn't be sure.

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Hermione helped her mother prepare the Christmas puddings, grinding cinnamon from sticks for the pies and tarts. She flicked a bit of hair out of her eyes as her mother babbled about what life would be like for Hermione after school, obviously trying to get a handle on it.

Her mother suddenly paused and said, "You know, dear, I can't say you've spoken much about boys."

Nearly dropping the cinnamon in the bowl, Hermione felt her face grow hot as she shrugged and said, "Oh, haven't I?"

"Well, about friends," her mother said with a laugh. Then she paused again and said, "You haven't started seeing that nice boy, have you?" She gestured as though this made it clearer who she was talking about before she said, "The one with the…the…. His mother makes medicines."

"Potions?" Hermione said, smiling. "No, Mum. Harry's dating Kitty Black. I've…erm…." She felt her neck go hot and she wondered how red it was as she said, "Actually, Neville and I have been…seeing each other."

At this, her mother's eyebrows shot up, obviously trying to recall exactly who Neville was, what his prospects were, what impressions he'd left when she'd met him in passing. Neville wasn't going to be as wealthy as Harry, but his prospects were good, and his family was nothing to sniff at in the wizarding word.

"You aren't having sex yet, are you? Because there were books I wanted you to read before you started having sex."

/-/

Sirius slipped out of his bedroom when Cara went to sleep and he carefully opened Catherine's bedroom door, relieved to see her asleep in her bed. He'd been afraid Harry would be curled up beside her, or that she wouldn't be there, or that she'd be in the middle of using some illicit substance.

With strong force of memory, Sirius recalled how Cara had looked on the sofa of the old headquarters, spread out and unconscious. She'd seemed so small, helpless, young. He recalled how terrified he'd been that she was sixteen or even fifteen years old. Even before he realized how attracted to her he was, Sirius had felt a desperate desire for her to be of age. Still, innocent, child-like.

Catherine was his baby, his little girl, and in moments like this she really did still look like a child, innocent and peaceful, but he knew in many ways Lily was right. Even through her blanket, he could see the change in elevation announcing her breasts – not huge, but certainly present on her thin frame. She had the legs and hips of a woman, thin though they were. And the sophisticated, worldly expression and way of carrying herself that she sometimes had in company….

No, she was a lady, but even though he could admit this in the moonlight, silently, watching her sleep, he would never be able to get the words out, even alone in a mirror. To say it out loud would be to let her go, to let her be free to make her own choices. And if she could make her choices, what would they be? All the trouble Harry and Catherine had found themselves in, Sirius couldn't help but believe they wouldn't always make the right choices physically and emotionally. And after all their years of fighting….

He smiled a little to himself as he thought of Lily and James and their many years of bickering. Perhaps, given time, things would turn out alright. The circumstances were very different, but perhaps.

He crept back to his bedroom and found Cara stirring, reaching for him in the bed with a frown on her face. He slipped back in and she calmed as he moved close to her, pressing his body against hers and kissing her forehead. With any luck, she wouldn't notice a thing.

"You were gone," she muttered sleepily. "The bed was cold."

"Just slipped out for a moment, darling," he said, closing his eyes and keeping himself calm, trying to separate himself from his emotions. It had seemed a nearly impossible task all day. "I'm sorry if it bothered your sleep."

"'Sfine," she slurred against his chest. "I love you."

Sirius smiled to himself, recalling how she'd said those words at their wedding night, how it had felt to be with her for the first time on his apartment sofa.

"Love you, too, Cat," he sighed, resting his head on the pillow happily as he ran his fingers through her smooth hair.

He'd grown too used to being able to control the world around him, he thought sleepily. Perhaps a little bit of healthy shock was good for him, occasionally. Perhaps it kept him honest, kept him thinking about how to make the most of things. For all his desire for her life to be the best, Sirius didn't want to control his daughter the way his mother attempted to control him. But for the first time in his life, he felt he truly understood his family, his mother. That his daughter was making choices outside of what he envisioned for her was terrifying, like not being able to feel his feet or what he imagined it would be like to suffer dismemberment by a snake. Helplessness, pain, anxiety.

Perhaps he would understand, feel secure in this change of the state of reality come the morning, but he didn't anticipate it.

 **A/N: So, Sirius knows. Sirius is unaccepting. Hermione's mother is way cooler with her daughter growing up.**

 **Also, everybody say a big thank you to** _ **Asma20**_ **, who is so desperate for bonuses that while I was editing this, I started getting a string of reviews from the EARLY chapters, trying to earn that next bonus. Congrats, because there's another bonus on the way due to your efforts!**

 **Review Prompt: If you're a virgin, how d'you reckon your parents will react when you have sex for the first time? If you're not…how did they react, if they know? Anyone similar to some of our parental units in this story?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Isn't this [the contract with Severus and its potential for keeping tabs on Catherine] kind of controlling? (Shadowz101, and many others)**

 **A: Well, yes, it definitely has that potential. I can't really say whether you'll find their eventual uses of this bond as controlling or not, because I do really see it that way, but I suppose it could be. If anything, the weight of that responsibility is going to force Severus to do a lot of growing as a character, and Catherine isn't faultless in abusing it at times, although it's less controlling from her end.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	92. Machinations

**A/N: So, here's Bonus Four, and there's another to come! Y'all are earning, bigtime!**

 **-C**

Cara was pleased they'd talked Severus into coming for Christmas. In fact, despite the relatively small party staying at the Manor for the full holiday, the Lestranges, Malfoys, Severus, Remus, and the Tonks's were all coming to the Manor to celebrate. Cara had thought about inviting the Prewetts, but Dorcas said that Molly Weasley wanted them at her house for the holiday. Her eldest son was planning his wedding and it was apparently the bride-to-be's first Christmas with their family. Molly wanted the whole family present.

Upon Severus's arrival, he made a quick notice of Sirius's stiffness and pulled Cara aside.

"He has learned, I take it," Severus whispered, "of the relationship between Harry and Catherine."

"Yes," she said, smiling tightly. Sirius hadn't been quite himself since catching them snogging. He'd been eating less and less, and he would sneak out in the middle of the night when he thought Cara was asleep so he could watch Catherine in bed, like he used to do when she was a little girl.

"I'll have a word with Remus."

A sudden anxiety overcame Cara that Sirius might lose his head and actually harm Harry in his overprotectiveness of their daughter, but the sensation was gone as soon as it came. As much as Sirius was mad over Catherine, he loved Harry. If she'd tried to date Cedric Diggory, perhaps, but not Harry.

"Mingle, Sev," Cara whispered. "Be polite. Say hello to your…fiancé."

She winked as Severus scowled at her, but it was entertaining, all the same, and she knew that he would kiss Catherine's hand in greeting. If nothing else, it would drive Lucius up the wall, which was part of the fun in the whole arrangement.

As Severus sulked off to say hello to Sirius before moving through the party in the ballroom, Nymphadora Tonks stumbled forward and pulled Cara aside.

"Did you feel that?" she asked.

Cara shook her head, frowning. She wasn't sure what her husband's cousin's daughter was talking about, but Sirius had jolted slightly, frowning as he looked around the room, counting people.

"The wards," the young woman said, her purple hair twitching around her head. "I felt them. I think someone's at the gate."

"Shouldn't be," Cara said, feeling slightly embarrassed. She didn't usually feel lesser because of her magical weaknesses, but her sensing of wards was greatly diminished with her incredibly low levels of magic. "I'll check."

Tonks, as the young woman preferred to be called, glanced at Sirius before saying, "I'll go with you."

Cara wanted to argue that she didn't need someone to protect her in her own home, but she supposed that having a trained Auror would be helpful, even if the Auror in question often had a hard time staying upright. If there was some kind of trouble, Cara could hardly curse away the opposition on her own. And Sirius would feel more at ease if he knew that the two women had gone out together.

Tonks slipped out her wand as Cara opened the front door and led the way out to the gates.

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Blaise went to his bedroom early on Christmas. He didn't know, care to know, or even like most of the celebrities his mother had around for the Christmas party. He and his mother always had their holiday time on Boxing Day anyway, when there were no expectations on her time. He found himself wanting to sketch, although he had nothing in particular he wanted to draw.

He pulled out a sketchpad and a quill and let his hand lazily guide across the paper, let it control the curves and movement of his hand. He thought of Draco's letter that said Professor Black knew about Potter and Catherine, and Blaise wondered what sort of interfamily relations issues would arise from such a situation. What would Lucius try to make of Catherine's supposed contract under such circumstances?

Blaise thought of strict interpretation of the issue of contracts and how Snape could duel Potter for her, or restrain him from seeing her. He also thought about the nature of the contracts which often allowed for some flexibility on the parties to carry out relationships, especially if one party was a great deal younger than the other.

When he looked at his sketch, he thought it was good work, but he wished he had colored ink to match the shade of the Weasley girl's eyes just so.

/-/

Brontes walked through the ballroom to where Jason was helping himself to more punch. He was about to ask if his cousin had anything good for Christmas when Aunt Cara walked back in with the Minister of Magic Scrimgeour following her. She looked slightly dazed as she looked for her husband, and Brontes caught her eye and gestured to where his father, Uncle Sirius, and Professor Snape were talking in the back corner by the door to the garden. She gave Brontes a grateful smile and led the Minister over to the men.

"What's he doing here?" Jason asked darkly, frowning after the man. "Kitty couldn't have done anything that illegal."

Brontes laughed, but based on Jasons's eyes, it wasn't much of a joke. It was astonishing to Brontes how the posture of their fathers changed instantly upon seeing the Minister, from relaxed to stiff and formal.

"What do you think it's about?" he asked softly, pouring himself some more punch and watching the way Catherine and Harry watched the behavior from their own corner, where Catherine was slipping a hip flask back into her dress.

"Oh, politics, likely," Jason said, sniffing before taking a drink of punch. "Did you get one of those ridiculous pins as well for your dress robes?"

"From Uncle Lucius?" Brontes said with a soft smile. "Oh, yeah. Ever going to wear yours?"

"Never," Jason said as Brontes's father's nostrils flared with irritation at something the Minister said. "Do you want to know what they're saying?"

"Yes," Brontes said, feeling slightly irritated himself. "Of course I do."

Jason caught Catherine's eye and gave her a little nod and a hand gesture Brontes couldn't see. Catherine smirked, nodded, whispered something in Harry's ear, and swept across the room with her head held high, regal, like a queen.

"Daddy," she said loudly, loud enough to be heard all the way over the side of the ballroom. Brontes snorted, taking a drink of his punch as Uncle Sirius softened his expression and kissed Catherine's forehead, greeting her with a much softer voice. Catherine made some excuse to stay around them, no doubt, to linger long enough to be introduced to the Minister and get some information on the conversation. Brontes rolled his eyes, but he had to admit, she always got what she wanted.

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Dorcas found her sister-in-law to be exhausting, but at least having Christmas with the Weasleys meant having Molly do all of the cooking. Dorcas always brought the alcohol and even mixed the eggnog. At least she felt useful without doing a lot of work.

The children were talking and laughing, swapping stories. Of course, the Weasley children were more rambunctious than her own – with the exception of Ourania – but it was still relaxing, all the same.

"Lovely," she said, thanking Arthur as he gave her a slice of pie. "Nice and relaxing. I mean, Sirius puts a great party on, but sometimes it's nice to be around a homier environment. The Manor reminds me a bit too much of the war days."

Arthur hummed, knowingly. He never asked her about her work during the war, but he knew the types as well as she did. He understood what it was like. He knew the kinds of unpleasantness that turned up at those kinds of events.

"Glad to give you an alternative," Arthur said with his kind way, eyes crinkling slightly with a smile. "I do have to apologize for the Celestina Warbeck. You know how Molly adores it."

Dorcas snorted and reminded him it was nothing on Sirius's drunken renditions of the Christmas classics.

/-/

Brontes leaned in when Catherine approached their table, her eyes dark as she poured herself some punch.

"Well?" Jason prompted lazily.

"I'm not entirely certain," Catherine said, frowning slightly. "I think they might have been discussing me, although why I can't possibly say. My life couldn't interest him. Anyway, they got really quiet when I approached, but whatever it is, he's managed to piss all of them off. Even Professor Snape looked like he was fighting the urge to slap him. Fudge might have been an idiot, but I don't think this one's getting off to a much better start."

Brontes hummed, looking over to the little huddle, where Professor Lupin was joining with a stony face. He had a few guesses what could be said relating to Catherine, and pretty much all of them had to do with her marriage prospects. No doubt he wanted to consult on something to do with her contract with Professor Snape, either signing it or dissolving it so interested parties could procure her hand in marriage.

Interested parties meaning Uncle Lucius.

/-/

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her husband when the Minister entered the party with Cara, but it was when she saw the look of cold rage in Severus's eyes that she knew for certain what game was being played. She gave her husband a cool look before slipping over toward the mass of men in the back of the ballroom, determined to smooth things out before the men actually just murdered the Minister of Magic right in the middle of the Christmas party.

/-/

Lucius drank his punch and frowned as his wife made her way over to Scrimgeour and the ring of men all caught up in her cousin's influence. It was amazing to him, how she couldn't see everything, _everything_ in their world seemed to revolve around Sirius Black and his magnetism, even when he didn't want to be involved. And his daughter was the same way. Could his wife not see the best way to ensure the most influential possible path for their son was to marry him to a woman around whom the whole of their world would turn?

Narcissa said something softly, placing a hand on Sirius's arm and greeting the Minister. She was speaking to Severus, who walked aside with her and spoke softly, looking out the back at the falling snow. Whatever they were saying, Lucius knew it would only cause problems with his wife. Draco was frowning, moving over to where the Potter boy and Catherine were, talking with them in low voices.

Catherine got a wicked look for a moment that reminded Lucius eerily of her father in his school days. The look faded after a moment and she had that shockingly sweet expression she got when she wanted something before crossing to Narcissa and Severus. Narcissa looked momentarily puzzled, but Severus did not falter. He nodded in a small way to Catherine before holding out his arm to her. She slipped her arm into it and said something sweet. His lips twitched into a smirk and walked her over toward her father. Lucius felt his neck stiffened as he watched. He barely noticed his wife joining him.

"What have you done?" she asked calmly, smiling. "Why are you meddling in Sirius's life again?"

"More importantly," Lucius whispered, "what is Severus up to?"

Narcissa's voice was ice as she said, "Ask rather what Catherine Black is up to. She's not a tool, Lucius. She's a very clever, very capable young woman. The more you mess with her life, the less chance you have of getting what you want. She's about to go and charm the Minister for Magic, and you're going to have to watch as he realizes his one shot at saving his career and public image is to leave it be. Between Sirius and his daughter, nothing in the world is more powerful."

"Or more dangerous," Lucius said softly.

His wife gave him a slightly startled look and he realized that she did understand, if not in the way he did. She did see that the Black family wasn't the source of the power, but an added boon. The source of the power was that magnetic quality, that arrogance mingled with cleverness that could turn any situation into an advantage or victory.

They watched together as the Minister's face changed after talking with Catherine, no longer the immature little girl trying to get her father's attention, but a regal young woman with the world at her feet. Severus spoke very little, no doubt letting her charm the Minister into some silly cover story about how he was a long-time family friend, how his influence and expertise had been critical to her education and future, and how she saw no problem with marrying a man of his stature to secure her position in the world. After all, Lucius was sure she would say, what are contracts for if not that very thing?

Why unsigned, Lucius knew Scrimgeour would ask, and her father or Severus – Severus, but the look of things – would tell him that it was because she was young, with time to change her mind. And if she should do so, they wanted to give her that right as an intelligent, modern woman.

Lucius closed his eyes and turned away from the sight of his failure. Options were running thin, indeed.

/-/

Zacharias Smith was one of the first people to hear the new Minister managed to get on the bad side of the Black family. Not that anyone present at the event actually told him. Despite having to work with Catherine Black daily at school, they weren't on speaking terms most days. And the others present didn't even speak with him while at school.

But his father happened to be a pureblood with recently good standing, and happened to have a lunch on Boxing Day with Rabastan Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, among others, and apparently the two men got into a very noisy fight about how Lucius Malfoy was prying into Black family affairs and involving the Minister.

Zacharias didn't know details. His father either didn't know much more or he didn't want his son to know, but what Zacharias did know was the new minister was walking on very thin ice. Practically all of wizarding Britain knew what Cornelius Fudge did wrong was anger Sirius Black and upset his wife, and those were the two things that could end anyone's political career.

And knowing the whispered secrets and suppositions of his parents, Zacharias thought mildly that Rufus Scrimgeour would be lucky if all he lost was his political career and his pride. From all accounts, it was very likely Karkaroff lost his life.

/-/

"So what did he want?" Harry asked, lingering at Catherine's bedroom door, wanting to go in but afraid to, in case her father came by to check on her. He wanted to kiss her as well, but he was afraid that once he did, Uncle Sirius would enter the corridor and catch him again.

"Scrimgeour?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow and pulling out her hair pins, letting her beautiful, brown locks cascade around her neck and shoulders in tumbling strips of silk. "He was trying to ingratiate himself to the families, and at the same time he was making…inquiries about the contract. I think he saw the likelihood of arranging my marrying Draco as a way of cementing himself in pureblood history."

Harry hummed, swallowed as he watched her take off her jewelry. He wanted to kiss her bare throat, to savor the warmth of her skin.

"Maybe when we get back to school," he said softly, glancing over her shoulder and turning around with surprise as she was beginning to loosen the zip of her gown. He paused, waiting and half-hoping she'd loosen it the rest of the way, let it fall off her shoulders. He'd forgotten they were standing in her doorway, effectively in the corridor, and anyone could walk by.

"Yes?" she asked, quirking an amused eyebrow. "What about when we get back to school?"

"Erm," he said. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes to find his train of thought. "Right, I was wondering if maybe we could have another date? Like, a proper one. Maybe the first Hogsmeade trip back or something?"

"Sounds lovely," she said, winking at him when he opened his eyes. He held his breath as she leaned in to kiss him, but it was over far too quickly. She said goodnight and slammed the door practically in his face as he stood there, rooted to the spot. The door stubbed his toe, but he barely felt a thing except the euphoria of knowing she'd said yes again.

/-/

Jasper Jorkins enjoyed his time at Hogwarts, but he was anxious, even before the break was over, to get people back in the castle. Sometimes he forgot what an empty shell it could be, like a stone husk, when the other students were largely away on holiday. Granted, by the time he was wishing for his peers to return, he'd forgotten how lost he sometimes felt in the crowded corridors, the whispering sounds that seemed to be everywhere, the indistinct noise that was a Great Hall full of students eating their meals and preparing for aspects of their day.

A year and a half in and he still couldn't seem to find his place. Jasper supposed things happened gradually, but he'd never given much thought to how much time it was supposed to take. Jasper was a patient boy, the kind who didn't ask many questions of adults in his life and didn't care to learn about his peers beyond information they offered. It always seemed rude to pry into things not offered up to him, and that went for the universe as well as people. If he didn't know, he wasn't about to ask.

 **A/N: So, Scrimgeour is fooled for the moment, Lucius is thwarted by a teenage girl, and Harry is completely smitten.**

 **Review Prompt: How stupid d'you think Scrimgeour feels now?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Kitty & Harry stop smoking? (Guest)**

 **A: Eventually. There will be a catalyst event in Part 2 that leads several characters to change their behaviors, and by Part 3 there will be far fewer substance users of multiple sorts.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	93. A Fine Line

**A/N: Here's Bonus Five! There's STILL more to come, but we're also almost to 500 reviews. By the time I post this, we might be there!**

 **-C**

Harry's hands were sweating as he walked into Hogsmeade village with Catherine, heading toward the sweet shop and feeling his heart pounding in his ears. Even though they'd had their first date quite a while ago now, it still felt like any little mistake could disrupt the balance altogether.

"Who's chaperoning this one?" Catherine asked as they stepped into Honeydukes and headed straight for the wall of Honeydukes' Best.

"I think Uncle Remus and Professor Flitwick are meant to show up," Harry said, shrugging. "And you know Hagrid – he's usually here."

She hummed, filling their basket.

After sweets, he planned to take her to Zonko's, then lunch, then over to the foothills for a smoke and some time making out. His whole body tingled as he thought about how the smooth skin of her throat had felt under his fingertips when they snuck out after rounds the week before. While he imagined what it would be like to breathe in the smoke from her cigarette again in the cool mountain air, she was putting some strawberry chocoballs in their basket, leading him through the store. She gave him a look, but she let him pay when she'd filled the basket entirely with various things, including Cockroach Clusters she was certainly going to try to goad him into eating to impress her.

They walked to Zonko's hand in hand, and her eyes immediately began darting around the shop, looking for the new biggest thing. Just as she zeroed in on a new itching powder that promised astonishing, highly explosive results, their names were said by a hoarse, soft voice to their right.

"Uncle Remus!" she said with her innocent, sweet expression saved for adults and when she was trying to lull people into a false sense of security. "What a surprise. I didn't know you went to joke shops anymore."

"Is that a way of telling me I'm old?" he said, smiling gently as he walked them toward the itching powder. "Don't forget, Kitty, that I'm the same age as your fiancé, give or take a few months."

Catherine hummed her acknowledgement of this fact and Harry shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet, not wanting to let them see on his face how uncomfortable it still made him to know that she was officially engaged to Professor Snape.

"Are you two having lunch in town?"

Uncle Remus looked slightly nervous, like he was trying to tell them something, and Catherine narrowed her eyes slightly as she said yes, they were planning to eat where they always did, maybe with friends if Neville and Hermione left the post office and the bookstore soon enough. He hummed, but he didn't say they should or shouldn't eat there, so Harry supposed it was probably okay. Safe, anyway, even if there was someone they didn't like there. At least he would know they were there.

Catherine decided the itching powder couldn't possibly work as well as advertised and gave Harry several long-winded reasons why before she said she was hungry with a wink, knowing she was teasing him horribly. She'd already promised if he'd gotten enough of the cigarettes she wanted – a special Turkish blend with just the lightest touch of hashish laced in – he'd be allowed to touch her naked breasts. He wished he hadn't been so obviously eager to do what she wanted, but he'd been able to think of little else but how to meet her task and thus earn his reward, ever since she set the challenge for him.

They settled at their usual table at the Three Broomsticks, but Neville and Hermione were nowhere to be seen. Catherine pointed out Ginny, sitting with Dean Thomas and snogging in the corner, and Harry kissed her cheek before going to order their food and grab their drinks. Things were going to go well. He could feel it.

/-/

Jessa Switch sat at the Three Broomsticks watching Astoria Greengrass carry on a very quiet conversation with Draco Malfoy in the corner. Yes, Blaise Zabini and one of the Lestrange brothers were with them, but she could recognize it for what it really was. She always thought the pureblood propensity not to date outside of courtship to be so silly, especially given the very obvious behavior of Catherine Black and Harry Potter when she was famously engaged to someone else.

Everyone with eyes could see Greengrass and Malfoy were quietly nuts about each other, although it had nothing on the way Potter was looking at his date like she was the sun and stars.

The door opened though, and Jessa nearly dropped her butterbeer when she saw Professor Black stalking in, looking at Potter coolly, making sure he was seen by his daughter's boyfriend before going to the bar and getting a firewhiskey. He settled in at a table near enough to hear and watch the couple, but not close enough to be right next to them. Jessa could feel the tension in the air, and she decided she was going to leave without finishing her butterbeer. There wasn't much entertaining in watching someone suffer.

She stalked into the cool winter air, wrapping her scarf over her mouth and nose and slipping on her gloves before heading back up to the castle.

"Miss Switch," Professor Lupin said, looking slightly pale and tired. "Miss Switch, tell me, is Professor Black inside?"

"Yes, sir," she said, wincing slightly. "And his daughter."

He sighed, obviously knowing what was going on just as well as she did. He thanked her and pushed into the pub. She thought perhaps this would be interesting, but after leaving, it would be too conspicuous to follow him back in. She swept her way back up the high street in the snow, wishing she'd brought a thicker cloak.

/-/

Harry felt like he was being suffocated as Uncle Sirius watched them eat. Uncle Remus was trying to get attention away from them, but wasn't having much success.

"D'you think he'll follow us when we leave?" Harry asked, nervous. He really didn't want her father to spoil the day, especially with the promises Catherine had made. He felt strangely dirty, thinking of Catherine's breasts while Uncle Sirius gave him that look.

"I doubt it," she said, wrinkling her nose. "We could always go back to the castle, though. Use the Map to hide from him."

Harry hummed. He didn't want to touch her in the castle. He wanted to touch her in the foothills, in the cold and open air. Harry wasn't sure why, but it seemed so much more erotic that way.

"Let's try to shake him first," she said, obviously sensing his concern as she traced her finger lightly around his kneecap. "Uncle Remus will be working to earn us some privacy. I expect he'll manage it. If he doesn't follow us within ten, fifteen minutes, we smoke. If we get through a cigarette without interference, you'll get your reward."

Harry tried not to grin as she said that, but his lips twitched into a silly smile despite his best efforts, and if anything, Uncle Sirius's eyes turned even darker as he glared at them. Hopefully, he couldn't read minds.

/-/

Catherine enjoyed watching Harry lean in close, breathing in her exhaled smoke, obviously itching to check his watch, desperate to touch her. She wasn't sure it would feel good, having his cold hands on her in this cold, open air, but his eagerness was intoxicating. Just that hungry look in his eyes was enough to make her body tingle pleasantly, with a jolt of heat between her legs she was beginning to associate with him wanting her.

The last thing she wanted was for her father to drive him away when she thought of how wonderful that feeling was.

"It's almost gone," she said, teasingly, enjoying the little groan of longing escaping his lips as he moved his hand to brace himself better, leaning closer to kiss her. She batted him away playfully, inhaling more of the rich, smooth smoke before she pressed her lips to his. She nudged his lips open and exhaled directly into his mouth, enjoying the way his hands twitched toward her torso at this act.

Catherine leaned back and passed him the cigarette as she had hardly done all afternoon, knowing he was taking longer drags than usual to end the cigarette more quickly, to earn his reward sooner rather than later.

She stretched out, laying down on the rock they were sitting on, which was mostly smooth. She rested her legs on his lap, feeling his hand go to her leg through the fabric of her jeans. He continued to smoke the cigarette, almost dutifully as he watched her look up at him. His fingers traced random shapes into her blue jeans and she ignored that his hand was moving higher slowly. She focused entirely on the heat in his wide, glassy eyes.

/-/

Sirius paced anxiously as Remus tried to calm him down.

"He's a good boy," Remus said softly. "He's your godson. You like and trust his family. Why would you be so upset about this?"

But Remus didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Soon, very soon, he would have to accept Catherine was no longer a little girl and confess his sins, not just to her, but to all three of his children. But he was so desperate to hold off, because how could she – how could any of them – understand? The things he'd done, the horrible things he had done….

"And isn't it better she's seeing Harry than someone you don't like? Like…Diggory, or…Blaise."

Sirius snorted and shook his head. Catherine was too intelligent to fall for either one of them.

"She's like you were in school, Sirius. She attracts so much attention and admiration, and she's always pushing the boundaries."

"I didn't date in school, Moony," Sirius said, slamming his fist down. "Come to that, I didn't date at all. I met a girl at Headquarters and I babysat her until one day we had sex and then another day she was in danger and I married her."

"Simplistic," Remus said softly.

Sirius knew his friend's eyes were full of pity. He knew Remus well enough to feel the pity, but there was no understanding. Sirius didn't want the pity or the understanding, anyway. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted to rewind the clock and freeze her as a small child, with no guile and no ambitions beyond pleasing her father and spending as much time with him as possible.

His hands were shaking, he knew. He had a feeling that Remus knew, or suspected, where his daughter and godson were right now, but he wasn't letting him leave the high street. What if they were off somewhere, touching each other? What if they were having sex? Sirius was too young to be a grandfather. He barely felt old enough to be the father of teenagers.

"Sirius," Remus said softly, "with those two, the worst that could happen isn't even so bad. Wouldn't you rather they be too wrapped up in each other to function than invite some kind of trouble by fighting? Whenever they fight, bad things happen."

"Moony," Sirius said, dark and low, "I know you think you're being helpful. I know you think you're going to calm me down and make me see reason, and convince me that it's okay for Harry to date my Kitty-Cat. Give it a week and you might be right, but right now, I'm not ready. I'm not ready to accept it, and I'm not ready to listen to reason, and all I really want to do right now, if you won't let me find them, is drink until I pass out."

"Sirius."

"Give me a cigarette and a bottle of firewhiskey, Remus, or let me find them, but for Merlin's sake, let me do something!"

Remus finally sighed, nodded, and handed Sirius back his pack of cigarettes, leading him up to the castle where they could drink and smoke in private. Remus probably pushed his responsibilities on someone else, but Sirius wasn't thinking of that. He was only thinking of the pain in his chest at the thought of Catherine no longer being his baby.

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Jason sat with his friends near the Shrieking Shack, and he watched Natalie brush a bit of hair from her face. He could get used to watching her, thought. Not necessarily watching her with their friends around, but on more dates. He'd thought about taking her on a proper date this weekend, but Dennis – who was beginning to feel a bit of a fifth wheel – had planned the trip for all five of them in careful detail, making sure to include something for everyone. Jason supposed he could always take Natalie on a date inside the castle, if Dennis didn't try to ruin Valentine's Day as well.

Jason wasn't one for putting his foot down, but he did when he had to. And he would absolutely do, if Dennis tried to have them all be together on Valentine's Day.

"I think we should go to the bookstore," Jimmy said with a smile.

Natalie and Jason exchanged a glance and a smirk. Jimmy cared not one jot for the bookstore, but it was Cora's favorite thing, and so he was trying to make sure she was happy. Dennis looked like he was going to argue, but Natalie gave him a stern look that always made Dennis and Jimmy do what she wanted.

"Okay," Dennis said, kicking a bit of snow out of the way. "But…can we come back another time, see if we can't get closer?"

"It's not allowed," Natalie said, narrowing her eyes.

"There's no rule," Dennis argued.

"There's a fence."

"Well, it's not a very sturdy one."

Jason just smiled to himself as they argued all the way to the bookshop.

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Harry traced his fingers along the curve of her breasts, feeling the heat of her body, watching as her skin raised into little bumps where his cold hands trailed. He had tried to warm his fingers, but it didn't seem to be enough.

Catherine's eyes fluttered closed as he touched her, as he examined her nipples and how they stood out against the rest of her skin, dark instead of pale, with little nubs hard and alert, like a mountain only devoid of snow at the cap. Harry felt an urge to kiss them, to suckle them, but she'd not given him permission, and he was too nervous to ask.

"How does it feel?" he asked, his heart pounding.

"Cold," she sighed as he covered the breasts with his hands, feeling how perfectly they cup in his palms, like they were sized just for him. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes," he said, feeling slightly sheepish. "They're…perfect."

Her lips twisted into a kind of smirk and he thought, afraid to say it out loud, that everything about her was perfect.

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Caroline sat with Damon in the entrance hall, playing a game of Exploding Snap on the bench, when her father stalked in with Uncle Remus. She was just about to greet him when she realized he looked to be in terrible shape. Uncle Remus caught her eye and shook his head to tell her not to approach, and he led her father upstairs, probably to his quarters. Caroline watched them go, and Damon softly said, "What d'you reckon has him all upset?"

"The only thing that ever makes him so upset," she said coolly. "Something to do with Kitty, no doubt."

Damon hummed, and she knew he was nervous. It only stood to reason it had to do with Catherine and Harry, as those two were no doubt on a date. It couldn't give Damon confidence he'd be accepted as Caroline's boyfriend if her father's own godson wasn't good enough for Catherine.

But Caroline knew it would make little difference, for now, who the boy was. Her father was past the point of reason.

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Sirius broke three glasses before Severus insisted that he take a sedative. He took it, and smoked his cigarettes, watching the snow coming down outside. He ignored the words of Severus and Remus, ignored the things they were telling him, the logic they were speaking. Severus would never dare try to comfort him. Not on this.

He closed his eyes and felt how dry they were, so dry it stung to close his eyelids. He thought perhaps he should have more firewhiskey, but then he recalled Severus's warning about drinking after taking a sedative. Was this one of the thongs he wasn't allowed to drink after? He couldn't remember. He wasn't sure. Had he taken a sedative?

He wasn't even sure of that anymore.

He gritted his teeth and sighed. Sleep was probably the only solace he could have for the moment.

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Damon watched Caroline that evening as she talked with her brother by the fireplace. He felt a kind of warmth all over his body as he watched her, as he thought of what a lovely day they had and how she'd even let him hold her hand for a while. Jason was carefully plaiting her hair as he listened to her story, and Damon wished those were his fingers through her hair, that he was the one with her sitting beside him, leaning on his body.

Despite his fear of her father, he realized he was growing almost dependent on the closeness she afforded him. He didn't think himself to be particularly brave, but he supposed this was why he was a Gryffindor. He'd stand up to even Professor Black of all people, if it meant being close to Caroline, if it meant the difference between the life and death.

 **A/N: Okay, we've passed the 500 point! Also, Remus tries to intervene, Harry is an eager bunny, and Damon is desperate to please.**

 **Review Prompt: How long until they cross the bridge from which there is no return, d'you reckon?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What actress could you see playing [Catherine]? And all the kids. (Shadowsz101)**

 **A: This is a really tough one, because I hadn't given a lot of thought to this, like I typically might. They all just looked so clear in my head, and I have really had to figure out who actually looks like them. For Catherine, I lean towards Audrey Hepburn, with just a touch of Anne Hathaway around the eyes. For Caro, go more Mila Kunis (obviously think younger versions). For Jason, just use whatever you imagine for Sirius. I've never found an actor who fit, but Jason's supposed to be the spitting image of his father.**

 **For the Prewett childrens, think the coloring of a Molly Quinn. I would say Cora and Rhea would be similar to her, with perhaps thinner faces. For Ourania, she's more of an Amy Adams, with a dash of Emma Stone around the eyes, but with Quinn's coloring. Damon's got a kind of Tom Hiddleston shape of face and features, with the Quinn-colored hair…. Erm… If I've forgotten anyone important, just poke me in a review or PM and I'll add it to the list of questions.**

 **Q: Can you do a fanfic of Cara and Sirius and Lily and James between 1980-1991? (Asma20)**

 **A: Well, I think there's a time and a place for that sort of thing. My** _ **Craving Comfort**_ **story is completely gap-free, and I did contemplate that here. But I feel like the bits of memories they talk about in this story fill the gaps reasonably well, as there's not much in the way of major conflict in that period, for any of them. I might do an occasional one-shot, if there's something specific someone wants to see, or if the spirit moves me, but no. I don't think I'll do a full-blown story in that period.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	94. Passing By

**A/N: Quickly stacking up these bonuses is keeping me from other things in life, but I swear I'm not complaining!**

 **-C**

Ourania had been told that seventeenth birthdays were important, so she didn't find it odd when Caroline and Catherine Black approached her and told her Fred and George were going to be coming by, for Ron's birthday, and they wanted help planning the perfect birthday surprise.

It only seemed practical.

The one condition was she couldn't mention it to Ron, and she couldn't mention it to Damon. As though she would have thought to mention it to either of them. Of course, she wasn't supposed to mention it to her sisters, either, who were likely to feel responsibility dictated telling someone.

Ourania had no such social hang-ups, and so she said that was perfectly fine, and she waited almost impatiently for the first of March. She was too busy flirting with Dennis Creevey, who was pleased enough to have a girlfriend, he didn't mind she wasn't telling him something.

This was normal, she thought. After all, Caroline had Damon practically crawling around on his knees after her (not exactly, but sometimes it felt like it), Catherine had Harry Potter eating out of the palm of her hand, and Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom seemed to be attached at the hip.

That was dating. Wasn't it?

Caroline slipped into a bench seat beside Ourania without Damon in tow, and Ourania raised a pale eyebrow at her friend in question.

"I got a message from Kitty," Caroline said softly. "From the twins. They're confirming ten in the morning. It's a weekend. Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Ourania said, picking at the nail polish peeling from her thumb. Perhaps she should repaint them a better color. The lavender made her look a bit sickly. "Where are we supposed to go, again?"

"Common room, ready to let them all in. Kitty's picking them up with her map."

"Who else knows?" Ourania asked, hinting about Neville and Harry, who were the most likely to know.

"Nobody," Caroline said sternly.

Damon was approaching, though, so the girls fell silent. It might have been awkward enough to prompt questions, but Caroline smiled and beckoned Damon forward with one finger crooked, and his pace toward her doubled. He sat as casually as possible, and he said something about how he'd been looking for them.

Ourania was flattered, but she knew her twin had been looking for Caroline.

"Well, you didn't look very hard," Caroline said, leaning on him. Damon's arm automatically wrapped around her waist as though it were some kind of cue. "I'm bored. We should do something fun."

"Whatever you'd like," Damon said, resting his head against hers. Ourania's lips twitched as she thought of how many times her brother would refuse to do something she wanted to do just because he found her tiresome.

He never found Caroline tiresome.

"I don't want to think of something," Caroline sighed. "I want you to think of something. Don't be boring."

Damon bit his lip looking over Caroline's head at Ourania for ideas, but she shook her head, grinned, and stood, taking her leave of them. No way was she helping him out of this one.

/-/

Sirius sat down in Lily's lab, feeling slightly suffocated. He didn't like being summoned. Even so many years after the war, it felt like being called in by Albus, or by the Dark Lord. Lily was very kind about it, but all the same, he had considered not going.

He knew this was arranged by many people. Remus, certainly. Probably Cara. Possibly even Severus. People who thought he was being absurd, that over two months after discovering Harry and Catherine snogging he was still giving them such a hard time, still making them look over their shoulders. He'd even gone to Filch's office while the man was out and looked around for the Marauder's Map, but if it hadn't been destroyed, Sirius hadn't found it.

When he told Remus about this, two days later he got his summons from Lily, and now he was sitting in her lab, watching her finish an experimental version of a quenching potion formulated to allow Vampires to exist normally in society.

It was going a bit more slowly than the Wolfsbane, and that taken decades to formulate.

Lily set her work aside to let the potion simmer and she turned to Sirius with a hard glint in her beautiful green eyes. But Sirius was not intimidated by Lily, as much as he respected her.

"Sirius, they're not children anymore," Lily said sternly.

"You're wrong," Sirius said softly. "They don't turn seventeen for a while yet. Until that point, Catherine is my child, and I have half a mind to marry her to Severus."

This stunned Lily almost as much as it stunned Sirius. The words felt foreign on his tongue, but there was something strangely satisfying in them. Lily's disapproval was poignant, however, and she said, "Sirius, if you were to do anything remotely like that just to protect your little girl, I would never forgive you."

But she didn't understand, so Sirius said nothing, looking at his hands and listening to the same lecture everyone had given him until Lily decided to send him away again. Better just to listen than to anger her with speaking his mind.

/-/

Remus was first alerted to the arrival of the Weasley twins on campus at the sound of a rather large explosion in the entrance hall about an hour after lunch. He hurried down toward the sound and saw the most spectacular display of confetti and fireworks (apparently working together safely) he could have imagined, with students rushing through the hall gleefully. Ron Weasley could be seen accepting a gift-wrapped parcel from his brothers, and a group of girls Remus knew very well were in the corner giggling and flicking confetti at each other.

"Ladies," Remus said, deciding to target the accomplices first and foremost. Catherine and Caroline immediately gave him their sweetest expressions as they greeted him, but Ourania Prewett didn't seem to have any such expression. She just grinned the same I-know-something grin she'd had when he spotted them from the marble staircase. "May I ask what exactly has happened here?"

Caroline glanced to her sister, who tilted her head in a coy sort of way, and Remus had to try very hard not to laugh or even smile at her. He wondered if she knew her father had done the same thing at Professor McGonagall every time it was his turn to give their explanation or alibi. It was probably Minerva's first clue they'd been guilty, but as a teenager, Sirius hadn't even realized he'd done it.

Catherine said, "Well, obviously the house-elves decided to celebrate Ron's birthday with us when they heard Fred and George were visiting, Uncle Remus."

"And who might have told them that, I wonder?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrow at Caroline, who was smirking her father's smirk.

This was the problem with having Sirius's children as students. It was so hard to discipline them when they reminded him so much of his schoolboy days.

/-/

Jimmy was running interference with Dennis, who decided that now he was basically dating Ourania, they should have a triple date. Cora, who was uncomfortable with the idea of having a triple date, much less one including her little sister and one of her closest friends, was helping Jason prepare for his single date, which was the way it ought to be.

"So, is Dennis changing his mind?" Jason asked as they went through his clothes looking for the right outfit. He pulled out a black dress shirt and held it up, raising an eyebrow. Cora tilted her head as she considered it.

"If he hasn't yet, he will," Cora said, smiling. "Dennis is likely going to stay here, anyway, spend more time with Ourania."

"I guess that leaves you and Jimmy together," Jason said with a small smirk that she associated more with his sisters.

Cora frowned slightly shaking her head.

"Where's the gray one? You know, that gray shirt you have, practically identical to this one? It's almost silvery."

Jason's eyes lit with recognition as he recalled the shirt she meant, and he turned to his wardrobe with pursed lips.

/-/

Harry laughed as Catherine settled on his lap in the Charms corridor, surrounded by their closest friends.

"Leave it to your brothers," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Leave it to them for what?" Ron asked.

Catherine touched Harry's face almost affectionately before she said, "He means leave it to them to be called in to the Headmaster's office when they come back for a visit."

Harry smiled as the others laughed, and he pressed his face into Catherine's shoulder blade, smelling the mix of scents uniquely her – a blend of frankincense and lavender, with a touch of her cigarette smoke lingering in the fabric, and a strange almost earthy smell he thought of as her.

/-/

"It's probably for the best," Delia Lestrange said as her husband ignored her, flipping through his daily copy of the paper. He did not look up, did not hum, did not even acknowledge her presence. Delia narrowed her eyes as she poured herself more tea. "Yes, it's definitely for the best."

He sighed, opening to the pages she knew contained the financial information.

"What is, dear?"

"That Catherine Black won't be marrying Brontes."

Rabastan snorted, looked up at Delia, and said, "As much as I know Sirius is against the marrying of cousins, my dear, I would be pleased should Catherine deign to join this family. However, Brontes and Catherine are not a good match, and whatever ridiculous reasoning you were using is likely irrelevant."

Delia deflated and sipped her tea as Rabastan returned his attention to the news.

/-/

Jason sat with Natalie in an empty teacher's office Catherine had told him about for the purposes of a date. He'd cleaned up the room as well as he could with his limited knowledge of cleaning charms. He'd laid out a picnic dinner and a bottle of wine (although he was very nervous about this) Fred and George had smuggled in, presuming Catherine would use it for herself and Harry rather than pass it off to her brother.

He lit the candles he'd placed in little jars and gestured to the dinner.

"It looks lovely," she said, blushing. "What is this room?"

Jason explained what it was as he sat down with her, using his pocketknife to uncork the bottle.

"Is that wine?" she asked nervously. "I've never…."

"It's very low alcohol content," Jason said earnestly, feeling his hands tremble from the nerves of trying to pass this by. "Catherine assures me it's the best for having it the first time. Fruit, crisp, like a cordial more than alcohol." She nodded slowly, and he quickly said, "If you don't want it, you don't have to have any."

"No, I'd like to try it, anyway," she said, blushing slightly. "Do you…do you drink often?"

"Not like my sister," he said, smiling as he poured her a small taste of the wine and poured a glass for himself. "She drinks a lot. But sometimes Caro and I will sneak some wine, or brandy if we're feeling adventurous." She took a sip. "Do you like it?"

She swished it around her mouth for a moment before swallowing, and he held his breath, nervous. Maybe he shouldn't have done this so early in their relationship, but she wasn't making a face.

"It's…good," she said, smiling slightly. "It's…different than I expected. It's…sweeter than I thought it would be."

He relaxed slightly, gesturing with the wine and she passed him back the glass so he could pour her a full glass.

"Hold it by the stem," he said, showing her. "If you hold it by the glass, your body heat will warm the wine."

"That's bad?" she asked, moving her hand.

"I don't know the details," Jason admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed that he hadn't made Catherine explain it to him. "But yeah, it changes the taste."

He took a sip of the wine and enjoyed the flavor. He'd have gone for something a bit dryer, but she seemed pleased, so he wasn't regretting the selection. Catherine certainly knew what she was doing.

He tugged at his shirt, trying to feel more confident as they ate, but he wasn't his sisters. He didn't have the natural arrogance that flowed off them in waves. He preferred to blend in, to watch.

Natalie didn't seem to notice his anxiety, though, and when all was said and done and he poured their second glasses of wine, Jason was prepared to say to himself the date was a success.

/-/

Padma raised a well-groomed eyebrow at Catherine Black, who was about the last person on the planet she expected to ask her a favor.

"Why?" Padma asked, puzzled. "Why should I swap my rounds again?"

Catherine looked like she was about to ask something, but she shook her head and said, "Look, I want to surprise Harry. And you've got rounds with Harry tomorrow. And my plan hinges entirely on our having rounds together. Now, we don't have rounds together again for the rest of the year."

Padma's lips twitched. She had a feeling Professor Black had arranged that. It was the worst-kept secret at Hogwarts how Professor Black didn't like his daughter and Harry cavorting around the castle, perhaps because she had a contract or maybe because it was weird for him his daughter and godson were cavorting right under his nose.

"What will you give me?" Padma said craftily.

Catherine narrowed her vibrant brown eyes, considering this hang-up. Padma wished she knew all the variables Catherine was weighing in her remarkably well-organized mind.

"What do you want?"

Padma smirked, tapped Catherine's nose with a manicured nail, and leaned in close.

"Good answer."

/-/

At the end of their dinner, Jason cleaned up with Natalie, their hands brushing repeatedly. He could feel his pulse racing as he tried to decide what the next step was, what he was allowed to do and what he maybe wasn't. But it was so hard to think between the wine and the warmth of her body beside him and the ghost of the sensation of her hand on his making his skin tingle pleasantly. Thinking was overrated, he decided. If he was meant to think all the time, he'd have been put in Ravenclaw.

Acting purely on instinct, he turned and touched his lips to hers. He could taste the wine on her breath, could feel the moist heat of it. He wanted the kiss to last forever, and he was pleased when he didn't pull away, she didn't either. They simple lingered there in a kiss for what could have been hours.

Had he checked a watch, he would have found it was thirty seconds, but for him it would always be much, much longer.

/-/

Neville turned over the planner he was hoping to give Hermione. She'd seen it in the shops and lamented the high price, so he decided that he was going to get it for her, since the price seemed perfectly fine to him.

Of course, he didn't really have an occasion for the gift, but Neville supposed he didn't need a reason to make her happy.

/-/

Catherine decided she should use the capital she had with the only people she could use it with to try to ease Harry's suffering, and she lingered at the end of her extra Potions lesson, waiting until Professor Snape bothered to acknowledge her presence without looking up at her.

"Yes, Miss Black?" he said tiredly.

"I need to speak with you about something…personal."

He looked up and his eyes narrowed.

"Personal."

It was not a question. She knew he was trying to decide if it would be better to shoo her away or hear her out. Perhaps afraid of upsetting her father by shooing her, he gestured for her to sit.

"You know my father better than anyone else here," she said softly.

His left eye twitched and he said, "You forget, Lupin was his childhood friend."

"I don't forget," she said coolly. "Whatever the things he hasn't told me, I can recognize that my father's a very changed thing from boyhood. The formative years for him were later, probably the war, and from what Harry's history books say, you would have a lot more insight into him than Uncle Remus."

"Speak, Catherine," he said, annoyed. "Ask your questions and leave, but do not expect me to answer things your father would not wish simply because I have done you the favor of standing in as a fiancé."

Her neck stiffened at this somewhat cruel way of putting it, but she was not surprised. She had seen how he treated other students well enough; she'd just never expected for him to use that tone with her.

She closed her eyes and said, "What can I do to make my father accept my choices?"

Professor Snape surprised her with a long silence, and she held her breath as she slowly opened her eyes to find him searching for how to answer, his black eyes darting across her face. Finally, when she could hold her breath no longer, he said, "There is a confidence I cannot breach, and there are things you are not ready to know the fullness of. Not from me. It isn't Potter's fault, and it is not your fault, and it is not your father's fault. None of you have done anything wrong." He hesitated. "Although I suggest you do not let Potter objectify you, whether he is conscious of it or not. You are a person, not a body."

"I know," she said, shifting uncomfortably. It wasn't Harry she felt was objectifying her, but everybody else.

His eyes softened the smallest of shades, so small she almost believed she imagined it, and he said, "Time, Miss Black. Time is the only way for his mind to change. Be patient. I believe he is nearly ready. He is running short of time, regardless, and your father never let life catch up with him altogether."

 **A/N: So, Catherine seeks out advice, Fred and George astonishingly cross new boundaries, and Jason and Natalie try new things.**

 **Review Prompt: What does Padma want, d'you think?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Harry still be in the story after he graduates? (Asma20)**

 **A: Of course! There will be some plot going on outside of Hogwarts with him, and the story will continue until just after Caroline graduates, so there will even be him and Catherine out of school together. The main drama will come to a boiling point away from the castle, but it begins while they're still in school. Relatively soon, actually.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	95. The Most Precious Thing

**A/N: Here's more Bonus!**

 **-C**

Sirius watched Catherine and Harry walk into the Great Hall with their hands intertwined, her gossiping happily, him just smiling at her as they walked to where their friends had gathered, today at the Ravenclaw table. They looked like a king and queen, Sirius mused, holding court over their own little kingdom, with their followers gathered close around them.

His stomach hurt as he saw for the first time his little girl was well and truly past being a little girl. The way she held herself, the way Harry looked at her, the way she treated Harry like Lily had long treated James….

They'd grown up. It was no longer the pair of them fighting over who could do every little thing better than the other. Instead, it was each of them trying to please and impress the other in subtle, practical ways.

"Are you relenting?" Remus asked softly, and Sirius quickly looked down at his eggs, realizing he'd been staring.

"I don't know what you mean, Moony."

Remus gave a disbelieving snort, but Sirius ate his food in silence. He had a long day of classes, and he planned to arrange a meeting with a student, when all was said and done.

Severus, though, Severus had come to him two days ago, saying that it was time for the truth to come out. It was time to explain to his children why he was being unreasonable instead of just asking them to accept it. As Severus had pointed out, Harry and Catherine were able to reason for themselves, and with what they knew, Sirius's behavior was bizarre and irrational.

And Caroline and Jason weren't far behind, Severus had intimated in his silky, sly way he suggested things that he knew the hearer didn't want to hear.

That was the most terrifying thing of finally accepting Catherine was grown up. On top of all the reasons why it was terrifying, he had to contend with the fact it meant the other two were also growing up at an alarming rate, and soon enough, none of his children would be children.

Sirius drank the rest of his pumpkin juice in one quick gulp and hurried out of the Hall, unable to look at them any longer. He had things to arrange in his office, probably, his classroom almost certainly. He had essays to grade, didn't he?

Probably not, but it was better than letting Severus and Remus give him those knowing looks as he tried not to look at his daughter. When he got to his classroom, Sirius scribbled a note to Harry for him to meet him in his office before dinner, and he decided he'd have a student deliver it to him between classes. Dennis Creevey, perhaps, as he was not enough of a probing mind to determine what it was about.

But then, Dennis was known for being a gossip, so he opted to give it to Cora Prewett instead. Even if she did think it through, she wouldn't tell a soul.

/-/

Luna cut her sandwich during lunch as Catherine sat down beside Harry and said, "If I made out with girls from time to time, would you mind?"

Harry nearly choked up his bite of salmon and spinach sandwich, quickly swallowing it before saying, "Why?"

Luna knew why. Luna knew the way Padma Patil watched Catherine, and knew Padma's Prefect patrols often were at inconvenient times for Harry and Catherine. In fact, Luna suspected Padma requested it thus.

"I'm not thinking of cheating on you," Catherine said breezily, not really explaining. "Not a relationship, mind. It's just business. If that's something I need to do, you won't mind?"

Harry hesitated, and he glanced at Luna, Rhea, and Ginny, all three of whom shrugged in unison. He seemed to be struggling with something, glancing at his girlfriend, then his sandwich, then back at his girlfriend. If Catherine was aware of this, she showed no signs.

"Well, you do what you think is best, love," he said, shrugging and picking up his sandwich again as though this were some test. "I trust you."

/-/

After classes were over for the day, Harry went to Uncle Sirius's office feeling his hands trembling and sweating. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might be getting ultimatum, the final warning to stay away from Catherine or else…something. But Harry didn't think he could do it. He would probably have to suffer the or else, because the very notion of staying away from Catherine made him feel slightly nauseous, like that sensation he got when he'd not had a cigarette in a week or so.

With one of his sweaty, trembling hands, he knocked on the door. Uncle Sirius's voice told him to enter and he did, closing the door behind him.

Uncle Sirius was pouring tea, and he asked, without looking up, if Harry would prefer butterbeer.

"Tea's fine, thanks," Harry said softly. He would have liked a glass of firewhiskey, but he wasn't bold enough to ask, especially when so much hung in the balance, in what Uncle Sirius was about to say. He sat down before being invited, although he knew he was about to be asked to sit, anyway.

Uncle Sirius paced over to his window and looked out at the grounds, frowning as he held his tea. He waved his wand and the second cup levitated over to Harry, who snatched it out of the air.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Harry," Sirius said softly. "It's…it's not something I want to leave this room. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Uncle Sirius smiled a watery smile before taking a sip of his tea and setting the cup on windowsill.

"When I was your age," he said, "I'd run away from home. I was living with your dad and grandparents, and there was a war on."

Harry said nothing. He'd definitely heard parts of this before, but if he was being sworn to silence, there was something knew. Uncle Sirius rested his head on the window frame and pressed his hands to the warm sides of the teacup. Harry sipped his tea nervously.

"I thought I was invincible. We all did." He inhaled deeply. "There were four of us." He turned to look at Harry. "Not your mum, but not counting her. We had a fourth friend, Peter." He closed his eyes.

"The war wasn't what we expected. When we got out of school, we all devoted ourselves to fighting it, your mum and dad and me full time, and Remus. Peter had to work, too, but…. It was a Tuesday. I was waiting at Headquarters to give a report. Your mum healed me pretty well, but she couldn't do everything, so I was still wounded. I fell asleep on the sofa, and when I woke up, Professor Dumbledore had what looked like a corpse he was bringing in.

"It was this girl, basically my age, but younger. She was dirty, in a nightgown, matted hair and bruising on her wrists. Barefoot. Professor Dumbledore healed her and he woke her up and asked her questions, but she didn't know anything. Not who she was or where she came from or how she'd gotten to the Forbidden Forest or anything. Just a name and what her bedroom looked like."

"Aunt Cara," Harry said with a nod.

Uncle Sirius sat down at his desk and nodded back. He took a few sips of his tea before he said, "Except, she thought her name was Catherine."

Harry felt a strange tightness in his chest at this news, and he took another drink of tea to avoid appearing too stunned.

"Anyway, I kept thinking that she was familiar, that her eyes were supposed to be gray even though they were brown. Nothing came back to her for ages. She wasn't allowed in meetings in case she was a spy, and I got relieved from time to time, but my assignment was to take care of her, to stay with her and keep an eye on her, keep her company.

"She saw something at the wedding, a tattoo on Peter's arm none of us had seen, and sometime later when she saw the same picture in the newspaper, she mentioned the tattoo. And exposed him as a spy."

Harry couldn't imagine what it would feel like, to have one of your childhood friends be unmasked as a spy, a traitor. Uncle Sirius's hands were the ones shaking now, but he ignored it as he continued to speak.

"She was terrified. And then one day, she needed new robes for a funeral, and we ran into her brother on the street. Rabastan. And that was the beginning of small memories returning. Professor Dumbledore forced them all back at once.

"Her father, Rabastan's father, had forced her mother into a sexual relationship, Harry. She was happily married to another man, and thus Cara's conception and birth were something of a social faux pas. When I was young, when she was young, she had shining gray eyes, and I remember her father torturing her at a party when she was a small child for running into him.

"Rabastan's sister-in-law, my cousin…. Narcissa's sister, actually, Bellatrix…. She saw Cara as an opportunity. As bait."

Harry frowned, trying to understand this word.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "Bait for what?"

Uncle Sirius turned his teacup and looked down at the leaves with mild interest as he said, "Bella had noted my Gryffindor tendencies, even as a child. Chivalry, Harry. I was the first Gryffindor in the Black family in centuries. Cara barely has any magic, and was a bastard child. She was, in the dictates of that society, wholly dispensable. Thus by making me aware of her presence, allowing me to feel responsible for her, she was subtly hinting that if I didn't do what they wanted, they would kill her.

"What they wanted, Harry, was for me to join the Death Eaters, to retake my place in society."

Harry felt sick as his Uncle Sirius explained how he had to do those things, working as a double agent. The idea of being a spy had always seemed glamorous to Harry, maybe from the Muggle films his mother would sometimes take him to when she had time off work. But the things Uncle Sirius described, there was nothing glamorous in it. Torturing and killing people he was friends with, people who didn't know he was still on their side. Burning his own brother's body to hide the true cause of his death. Bowing to a monster who used Dark Magic in effort to live forever, splitting his soul through murder.

"We tracked down the pieces and they were destroyed one by one," Uncle Sirius continued. He waved of Harry's question and said, "It's not an interesting story, Harry, and you won't find it in a history textbook. If you go on to study the war, maybe I'll give you an exclusive someday, but that's not relevant now. The important thing is, they were all destroyed. You know of the prophecy?"

Harry nodded. Every NEWT level student of Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic knew the basics of the prophecy foretelling the downfall of Lord Voldemort – or You-Know-Who as many still called him.

"It was a cryptic thing. Professor Snape delivered the news, on Dumbledore's orders. We were supposed to find out who the Dark Lord suspected. It was your dad, Harry. He thought you were the child, and your father would be the one to kill him, or perhaps Lucius.

"None of us saw it coming. There was a ball at Lestrange Manor. Dorcas – well, she was Dorcas Meadows back then, but Prewett now – she was working undercover as well, with the wives. She was at the ball, and her cover was blown because of me. She was afraid I would truly turn because of my wife."

Harry was afraid to ask, but he had to know. With the smallest voice he'd heard come from his own lips in years, he asked, "Would you have?"

Uncle Sirius scratched his cheek thoughtfully and said, "I don't know. If it came down to it? I don't know, Harry. It's not the kind of thing you dare guarantee, one way or another. He wanted me to torture Dorcas, but I wouldn't. And then he was going to, but on a whim, I…I stopped him. And then he began to torture me."

Having seen the effects of a Cruciatus Curse on insects, Harry could imagine how excruciating this would be. Apparently, from Uncle Sirius's story, Aunt Cara was looking for him, because she found him, and when he was aware of his surroundings she was stabbing the Dark Lord through with a sword. She collapsed, and Professor Snape discovered that she was pregnant.

"You remember that whole mess, right?" Uncle Sirius asked, and Harry nodded, recalling how the historian discovered that the official story of Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort killing each other was false, and actually, Aunt Cara had considerably more to do with it than history had ever suspected. "Well, we arranged it, and when Rabastan's brother refused to go with the cover story, we wiped his memory and had him sent to Azkaban."

He licked his lips, set down the teacup and said, "Do you see, Harry? Kitty isn't just my first child, she's my most precious thing. She's the key to ending our torment, the beginning of our happy future, our symbol of peacetime and starting over again. I didn't name her Catherine because we liked the name, or because we wanted to name her for her mother. She was going to be what Cara should have been, if she'd been allowed the reset, if she could have stayed innocent of her background forever. I wanted nothing bad or Dark or wrong to ever touch Kitty. I wanted her to be safe and peaceful and happy and free all her life, and that is why I give her nearly everything she asks for. That's why I say nothing about the cigarettes and the alcohol and the clothes she wears and the music she listens to. It's why I've never told her what she can and can't eat, what films she can watch, which friends she can have."

Harry nodded.

Boyfriends were different, Harry realized, because boyfriends meant she was outgrowing the bubble, the influence, the stage of being a little girl he could give whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. She was becoming a woman, out of his sphere of influence. Uncle Sirius could no longer believe he was the most important thing, the most important man in her life.

"I like you, Harry," Sirius said softly. "But that girl is not just my daughter. She is my most precious thing. Do you see?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said softly.

He was fully prepared to be told he couldn't date her, and he was already lining up his defense, his defiance. He didn't think Uncle Sirius would make him suffer too much, and he knew the other adults in their lives would back him, and eventually Uncle Sirius would have to relent.

Just as Harry was about to burst out with his arguments, Uncle Sirius said, softly, "As difficult as this is for me, Harry, you'll have my permission. On one condition."

"Anything," Harry said, sitting forward.

This caused a melancholy smile at his godfather's lips before he said, "Your mother's always right, isn't she?" He sighed. "I need you to promise me that no matter what happens, no matter what you do or what she does or how the world treats either one of you, you will never, ever be the cause of any pain for her."

Harry nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest in the air between them, and he knew this was one of those moments that changed the course of a lifetime.

"Uncle Sirius, I don't think I could purposefully hurt her if it were that or my life. Because…because she's everything."

With a knowing nod, Uncle Sirius poured them both more tea, tipped a little firewhiskey into each glass, and passed Harry his with a wink.

"Here's to everything, then, Harry. Cheers."

/-/

The halls of Hogwarts had a kind of climate. The temperature never truly changed, as it was magically controlled. Apart from the ceiling of the Great Hall, there weren't really elements to be contended with. But Natalie believed she could almost feel changes in the wind as she walked through the corridors at times, and she'd recently begun to feel that kind of sensation.

Cold. When she went to Potions class, or when she experienced a passing of Gryffindors and Slytherins in packs in the corridor, it seemed to her that an icy breeze brushed past her, although no one else seemed able to feel it.

Because of how strange it sounded, even in her own head, she did not mention it to anyone else. Not even to Jason, who seemed to understand her better than anyone else. Not even to Cora, to whom she told practically everything. It felt like the kind of thing to bury away, to watch quietly as it developed. She supposed it was something that would turn out to be nothing, and so why bother someone else with it?

But that chill continued to plague her, and it made the skin on her arms raise with tiny bumps under the crisp sleeves of her white button-down shirt and robes. The way they rose when Jason kissed her. The way they'd risen when she heard what Igor Karkaroff had done to Catherine Black. Even if she told herself it was nothing, Natalie could not escape the feeling of ice underneath the layers of her skin, following her and waiting for the right moment to reassert its presence.

 **A/N: So, Harry has Sirius's blessing, something's funny with the Slytherins, and Harry's given his blessing for something…else.**

 **Review Prompt: Now Sirius has given the okay, how do you think their relationship might shift?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why doesn't Cara live with Sirius at Hogwarts once Caroline starts her first year? (Asma20)**

 **A: Partially because of her childhood, partially because of what she'd gone through in the war, Cara doesn't like crowds. She enjoys her peace and quiet. Living at Hogwarts would be a great psychological strain on her, and while they may have even tried it his first year teaching, they'd both have agreed pretty sharp that it wasn't a great fit.**

 **Cheers**

 **C**


	96. Unforeseen

**A/N: Here's another Bonus!**

 **-C**

Draco didn't want to be angry with Harry. He tried not to be, but since Harry got permission – officially – to date Catherine, he'd regained some of his bravado. It was almost as if the issue of not being immediately accepted had emasculated him, and now he had a go-ahead, he could be his brash, egotistical Gryffindor self again.

Mostly, Draco could ignore it. Yes, in a technical kind of way Harry had the prizes. Harry won the head-to-head in Quidditch. Harry was dating the most eligible witch in England, although Draco wasn't truly jealous about that. In fact, Draco could have taken these slights, and losing to Harry at the latest round at the Dueling Club, but there was one thing Draco couldn't stand.

Harry, a guy with two left thumbs and no head for formulae, was somehow beating Draco and Granger at Potions.

Now, most people explained this away as his relationship with Catherine, who was well-known to be the most naturally gifted in Potions in a generation. Professor Snape had said as much, and reaffirmed it by giving her extra lessons and handing her many dozens – perhaps even hundreds – of points to Hufflepuff for her brilliance. And theoretically, Catherine could help Harry with his Potions homework. She could help him study, explain things in a way he understood, give him tips to help him in brewing. And because he was so engrossed in her, he was bound to get more out of what she told him than what Professor Snape tried to teach him.

This didn't fly for Draco.

Hermione Granger had tried for their entire school period to teach Harry how to do Potions, and how to do them properly. She'd tried to help him with his essays and understanding, his technique and discipline. No, she was no Catherine, but she had enough talent and clarity that he should have showed some sign of improvement regardless.

No, there had to be something else, something more than what Catherine would be able to teach him in a way not breaking rules, and Draco decided he was going to find out what it was. And he started by cornering Catherine.

"Kitty, I need to talk with you about something," he said, pulling her aside in the corridor, speaking softly.

"Fire away," she said cheerfully, checking her watch. "You have five minutes."

"What if I need more time?" he countered.

Catherine quirked an eyebrow, looking around the corridor. He knew he had her attention, and she hated questions she didn't have answers to. Knowing her curiosity would get the better of her, he gave her an expectant look, forcing home that he was waiting for her answer.

With a sigh, she tossed a bit of her sleek brown locks over her shoulder and said, "Right, meet me on the second floor, by the portrait of the tap-dancing goblins, say…seven?"

"Okay," he said, grateful that she wasn't having him go to some obscure, distant corner of the castle for this. "Seven."

/-/

Although he felt they didn't really need a reason to fight, Aeson also thought that their recent issues at Dueling Club were more than enough reason for him and Caroline to be fighting. Her friends thought it was absurd, and Brontes had subtly suggested Aeson let the slight go, but Brontes didn't understand. He was a quiet soul, chivalrous in his way.

Aeson didn't have a chivalrous bone in his body, and he was rather proud of it.

"Let me get this straight," Ourania Prewett said as they walked into the library together. She lowered her voice as Madam Pince glared at them over her pince-nez. "You're mad at Caroline because she beat you? Because she made a fool of you?"

Aeson's nostrils flared at the choice of words, but Ourania didn't notice. She wasn't a subtle person, and even if she had noticed, she likely wouldn't have cared. She would have just said he was being too sensitive.

Of course, it was clear she already thought this, and she said, "I know you don't need a reason to be mad at her, but maybe you could try a truce for, like, a week and see how that goes?"

She clearly did not understand.

/-/

At seven o'clock exactly, Catherine arrived at the designated location, and she looked flustered and slightly annoyed.

"What's all this about?" she asked, pulling her hair into a loose bun. Draco had never seen her hair like this before, but it suited her. Probably, she wore it this way while brewing.

"Potions."

"Draco, if you want help with your classes, you don't have to arrange strangely secret meetings." She smirked at him. "I charge standard hourly rates."

He snorted, but he was not actually amused. He didn't believe in beating around things. Catherine tugged her bag a bit higher on her shoulder and gave him an expectant look, and Draco realized she really was being serious, not about the charging, but about helping him with homework.

"No," he said, glancing up the corridor again. They were still alone. "It's about Harry's Potions work."

Her neck stiffened and he wondered if perhaps she'd gotten a bit squeamish about talking about Harry when he wasn't around. Probably this was what vulgar, normal dating outside of courtship did to people. Draco couldn't fathom what there was to be gained from it.

"What about it?" she said softly. "I'm not in your class, Draco, I can't analyze it for you if I'm not there to see it."

"You know he's out-performing himself."

She raised a coy eyebrow, tilted her head slightly and said, "Is he?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, frustrated.

"Don't play daft, Kitty. It doesn't suit you. You've heard the rumors. You know people think you're basically feeding him his Potions skills."

"I'm not."

"I know that," he said, smirking at her. "Give me a bit of credit, cousin. I know you both quite, quite well."

No, he hadn't imagined it. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable, judging on the way she shifted from foot to foot, touched her ear, and fiddled with the strap of her bag without meeting his eye. Whatever Harry was doing, she knew about it, and for whatever reason she didn't want to tell Draco. Was this her Hufflepuff loyalty? And if so, where was her loyalty to family?

"What is he doing?" he demanded outright, trying to back her into a corner.

Catherine sighed, tucking a bit of stray hair behind her ear. She glanced up and down the corridor as he had done and lowered her voice.

"I don't feel like I can tell you," she said, her eyes begging him to let it drop.

But Draco was just getting started.

/-/

Ourania had a feeling of foreboding she tried to ignore. She'd never thought of herself as someone with a good people-sense, but she felt like she was getting one of those vibes her mother always talked about. Her mother's secret to success was understanding and anticipating people, and she had often told Ourania the most important thing in most life endeavors was to guess what the other person would do next, before the thought occurred to them.

Now she was sitting in the library with Aeson and a feeling in the base of her stomach was telling her he was going to do something stupid.

This wasn't exactly ideal. It wasn't a unique or well-developed supposition of his next move. Aeson did a lot of things Ourania would have called stupid, like using hair putty and not doing his top button up for class.

This was bigger, though, and Ourania felt keenly that if she could puzzle out whatever it was, she could stop it. For once, she could do something useful instead of watching as her brother or Caroline got all the attention for being intelligent and prescient and observant.

Perhaps if she sat here long enough it would come to her, no matter how nauseous the feeling was making her.

/-/

Catherine was testing Draco's patience with her pointed and nervous evasion, the way she kept trying to end the conversation and leave without telling him what he wanted to know. He couldn't even say to himself why it was so important, but in that moment, he was single-minded. If he could have taken a step back from his body and looked at how he was behaving and what he was about to do, he would have felt a keen horror at seeing how much like his father he looked. And then he would have been struck that the reason he was so bothered was the pressures from his father.

But he could not step back, and in a moment of frustrated anger, Draco reached out and grabbed a retreating Catherine by the wrist, yanking at her arm to make certain she stayed.

From the shock in her eyes he immediately regretted the action, but when the air beside them rippled and Harry was suddenly standing there with fury in his eyes, Draco regretted it even more.

/-/

In the low light of her lab, Lily was examining the protein levels in the new version of her serum for vampires, and she was dismayed to find them to be far too low. She made a few notes and looked back over her ingredient lists, trying to determine what had caused the dip from anticipated levels.

While she worked, she was plagued by a tiny feeling she sometimes got when Harry was a child, in the pit of her stomach. It would happen when he would fall from his broom or scrape his knee playing with other children in the neighborhood, or that time Catherine goaded him into eating a pound of cockroach cluster and he became violently ill.

He was at Hogwarts, she told herself. He would be fine, and if he wasn't, Sirius would take care of him.

/-/

The sensation of rage that filled Harry when Draco grabbed Catherine was new and strange, and it took over completely. Draco had backed into the nearest door, which happened to be the boys' toilet, and he took out his wand.

The stalls must have been empty, although Harry hadn't bothered checking when he followed Draco in, drawing his own wand. Catherine had grabbed Harry's cloak and stuffed it in her bag, pleading with them to be sensible. But Harry couldn't hear her words, only the sound of her voice, strained and strange. She followed them into the toilet, and it caused her voice to echo.

"Don't interfere, Cat," he said sternly as the two boys circled each other, as they did in the Dueling Club.

Dueling was a natural state for Harry now, something flowing from his wand arm without thinking. Especially now he was starting to get a grip on nonverbal spells, something Draco had already mastered, the two could duel fluidly without pause or snags. Harry did worry one of the shattered mirrors might injure Catherine, but she put up a shield between herself and their duel, maintaining it diligently.

The duel grew nastier and nastier, and Harry could feel his pulse in his throat as they started to throw some of the more borderline hexes and curses at each other, and Harry wasn't sure what did it. He decided, in the tiniest fraction of seconds, to use a spell he'd seen in the margin of his textbook, one invented by the Half-Blood Prince, the previous owner of the book. He wasn't sure what it would do, but everything he'd tried thus far had served him well.

He performed the spell and was stunned when Draco cried out in agony, collapsing to the now-wet tiled floor of the toilet, gasping and whimpering. Catherine dropped her shield and hurried forward, kneeling at Draco's side as blood began to soak through his wet button-down, coming from his chest. She unbuttoned the shirt, pulling it out of the way to reveal a large wound.

"What did you do?" she cried, horrified.

Harry wasn't really sure, but he felt numb. His feet were heavy, his mouth was dry, and this terrible thing was his fault.

"He's dying," Harry said, horrified. Catherine didn't need to see this. Catherine shouldn't have even been involved. "Kitty, go get help."

She nodded, but she surprised him by pulling her silver knife out of her bag and held it up to examine its edge.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, momentarily afraid that she would finish Draco off.

"I'm calling for help," she said calmly, holding the blade to her palm. He protested as she slit her palm, not devastatingly deep, but enough to leave a scar and draw quite a bit of blood. She groaned, biting her lip. She looked up at Harry with a weak smile and said, "The contract, Harry. Significant bodily harm, and Professor Snape will feel it. He'll come running, I'm sure."

Harry found that disturbing and a little worrying, but he wasn't sure how he felt about it, and there were bigger issues on the table as Draco grew paler and paler, grasping at Catherine's knee with a weak, trembling hand.

/-/

Cara cleaned her empty teacup, and was putting it away when she felt a sharp sensation of panic filling her chest. For a moment, she seemed to black out standing up, and when the sensation subsided, the teacup was broken at her feet. With trembling fingers, she bent down to touch one of the porcelain shards, ignoring the slight cut on her finger.

She'd never experienced anything like that before, but the blacking out she'd definitely experienced, and it was followed by waking up in her bed at Grimmauld Place, with Sirius looking down at her, telling her that she was pregnant, that she'd killed the Dark Lord. She closed her eyes to catch her breath and called for Kreacher to clean the teacup. Had Sirius been home, she would have just had him fix the cup, but she would let Kreacher handle the mess however he saw fit.

Cara could feel, as the end of the school year inched closer, the distance between Hogwarts and London as keenly as she could feel her own heartbeat in still moments. She decided to lay down, and perhaps she would do a fire call to her husband later that night, when he would be sure to be in his own quarters, away from others. She didn't want to worry him over something that was likely nothing, but she had a strong desire to see his face, even if that was all she could get for the moment.

/-/

Severus arrived in time, and he recognized the spell immediately. He told Catherine to wait with Harry in the corridor, knowing her hand could be dealt with after Draco had been healed.

"There will be scarring," he told Draco, who nodded. "I will make a dittany paste that should relieve some of the scarring if used daily for a week." Draco nodded again. "Go back to your dormitory and do not come out again until it's time to go to breakfast."

Draco made no arguments, and he staggered out of the room to follow the instructions. Now Severus had to deal with the misdeeds of a Black and a Potter, and he began to contemplate early retirement.

/-/

Dorcas checked in with Lily on the new serum, but was dismayed to learn it hadn't made the kind of progress they had been counting on. The vampire community was anxious for a breakthrough like what had been made for the werewolves, something allowing them to lead normal – if incredibly long – lives in society.

And while Dorcas found vampires to be unsavory and awkward on a personal level, it was only fair and reasonable to fight as hard for their rights as she had for magical groups she actually liked, although she still hadn't made much progress on procuring more of the ancestral territories for the centaurs, much of which had been restricted during the war and even more of which had been restricted slowly, over time, by bigoted politicians with a fear for those that were different. She told herself little steps would get there in the end, but it was hard not to wish she could snap her fingers and make it all better in an instant.

/-/

After they were awarded with detentions and the book was confiscated by Professor Snape, the numb guilt didn't leave Harry. He walked with Catherine, although he had no sense of where they were going. She pulled him to a stop in the middle of a corridor, and he realized as he looked around they were a corner away from the Fat Lady's portrait.

"I'll give you back the cloak tomorrow," she said softly, touching his face. He turned his eyes back to her, although he could not hold her gaze, and he dropped his to her chin. "When you have your book bag."

"Okay."

"Did you know what that spell would do?"

"No," he said, his nostrils flaring defiantly. "You know I would never if I'd known."

He could feel the slightly raised spot where Professor Snape had healed her palm as he pressed against his face. He felt a strange tear within himself between wanting to kiss her and being so ashamed to even look at her after what he'd done.

"I know," she said, letting out a small sigh. "But I had to ask."

He nodded as she pressed her forehead to his. He enjoyed where their skin met, but he wanted to push her away, to tell her he felt wrong, touching her. But he was too afraid she would listen and she wouldn't let her thumb brush over his bottom lip like it was doing.

"I think you've learned your lesson, Harry," she said sadly. "It's not the end of the world. I'll tutor you in Potions, if you'd like."

He snorted and said, "I'd never learn anything if you tutored me, Cat. I'd be too distracted by you."

She giggled, but it was far too easy for him to imagine her trying to teach him, and how his eyes would be caught up on her skirt, her lips, her neck when her hair was pulled off it and into a bun.

Catherine said goodnight, reminded him she'd give him his cloak in the morning, but as soon as she walked away he regretted letting her leave. The cold shame felt so much stronger when the heat of her body left him, and he was left to stare in the face the memory of what he'd done.

 **A/N: So, Sectumsepra has been used, the marriage contract shows its worth, and the book has been confiscated.**

 **Review Prompt: Did you ever get into a fight in school? If no, did you ever want to? I always wanted to, but I was too practical. It's tragic.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will the competent Kingsley Shacklebolt eventually get to be the Minister? (DREAMLESSLY17)**

 **A: Great question! I went back and forth on this one many times. I truly believe the only reason Kingsley was pulled into that position was the gaping vacancy left by the war, and his status as an Order Member already well-versed in both the Ministry and politics (time spent in the Muggle ministry, anyone?) If there's no vacuum of power to fill, and if he didn't have those experiences, I don't think it makes sense for him to have that role.**

 **I will promise, by Part 3, Scrimgeour will not be the Minister, and someone endlessly competent will be filling the role. But it's not Kingsley.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	97. Riding the Wave

**A/N: Here's ANOTHER bonus for you guys! I swear, I go to bed and wake up, and I'm assaulted by reviews! I love it.**

 **-C**

Professor Snape gave Catherine a stern look as she entered, getting out her knife and the string she used for binding herbs. She wasn't sure what Harry would be forced to do, but it was certainly not going to be as pleasant as what Professor Snape was having her do for their third consecutive day of detention.

"You realize you were not required to partake in these detentions as you did not officially attack anyone."

She smiled to herself, nodding as she tied back her hair. Professor Snape had said this to her each time she arrived, and she wasn't even going to bother telling him this time how she enjoyed having extra time working on her brewing skills. What she hadn't told him was she also felt Harry needed solidarity after how terribly guilty he was feeling, especially as Professor Snape specifically scheduled the detentions to coincide with the final Gryffindor match, the one which would decide the Quidditch Cup winner for the year.

Harry came in looking anxious, partially because of his trepidation about what he might be doing in the detention, partially because he no doubt just came from giving his final instructions to Ginny, who was leading the charge in his absence and playing Seeker with Dean coming on to take her spot with the Chasers.

"Now you are both present, we may begin," Professor Snape said darkly. "Miss Black, you will continue preparations of the herbs for use in classes, from where you left off." Catherine nodded as she sharpened her knife and gave Harry a bracing smile that he weakly returned. "Potter, you will scrub the first year cauldrons."

Harry winced but he nodded, pulling out his wand.

"With this rag and this polish, Mr. Potter."

It looked a painfully thin rag, and Catherine had a small inkling Professor Snape was going to tell him he would do double time if he put a hole in the rag. She looked up at Professor Snape with nervous, pleading eyes she saved for very special occasions with her father. It always caused her father to capitulate, and even sometimes shook Aunt Lily. Professor Snape looked at her with the same emotionless face, but he simply turned away to grade papers and let them work without further torment to Harry.

Catherine felt the hours tick away, noting Harry seemed increasingly anxious as they worked, as if he was feeling a growing pressure to know what was going on in the match. From certain parts of the castle one could see and hear the pitch, but not from Professor Snape's classroom.

Her time was productive, as usual. She'd prepared nearly all the herbs by the end for drying or semi-fresh use, and a few would be left tomorrow for their final day of detention, and then he would probably have her brew a few things for the hospital wing, if she had to guess. Harry made great headway into the cauldrons, but his shoulders were so stiff and tight by the time they left, she worried he'd struggle to relax them well enough to sleep.

/-/

Lucius was frustrated there was no real news on what happened to Draco. Albus might pretend to be a fool, but Lucius knew the man hadn't gone senile. He was the kind of man who knew every little thing happening in his school, including who had injured Draco. It was not a simple matter of the Dueling Club as Draco claimed, as Narcissa took as gospel.

As much as Lucius couldn't prove it, he was certain it had something to do with the Potter boy. Narcissa had encouraged the tenuous friendship between the two boys all their lives, but Lucius knew better. She could say what she wanted about a new era, about the blending of the layers of society and letting riff-raff like the Potters and their half-blood mess into the same sphere Lucius and Sirius and Rabastan walked in…. But Lucius understood it could only lead to the watering down of their layer, no matter how unfashionable the belief was, and he was determined Draco not be greatly injured by these newfangled notions.

So, Sirius and Cara wanted to let their children mingle and even marry with blood traitors. Perhaps that was their prerogative. Lucius, however, would not allow the Malfoy name to be weakened.

/-/

When Dean saw Harry come into the common room, he was the first to erupt with cheers. Of course, he didn't feel too much like celebrating. He'd broken up with Ginny earlier in the week from the stress of the practices, and he knew he wasn't going to get her back. Ginny wasn't he sort of girl who could be won back once she was lost, and it was a blow to his pride, but Dean supposed he'd always known it was only a matter of time.

Dean sat with Harry, Neville, Ron, and Seamus in the corner, with their spiked butterbeers. Harry ignored Hermione's indignant sounds and lit up a cigarette to enjoy his celebration further, right in the middle of the common room. Dean supposed the common room had been through worse over the years.

"So, one more day of detention?" Ron asked, unable to stop grinning. "Gonna celebrate proper when it's done?"

"Yeah," Harry said, smoke billowing from his nose when he closed his mouth and exhaled. "Yeah, I've got big plans to celebrate with Kitty. I've got the weather reports, my broom is in top condition, and no one will miss us over a Saturday night."

Dean perked up at this, realizing Harry meant sneaking out of the school, going somewhere else. And over a Saturday night? Wherever he was taking her, they wouldn't be back until morning. It would have been a risk no matter who they were, but a pair of Prefects, and with her being the daughter of one teacher and technically engaged to the other…. Not to mention being two of the most recognizable wizarding children in Europe because of their parents' prominence….

"Does she know yet?"

"I told her we're doing something," he said, rubbing his eyebrow. "I haven't said what. Neville, can you get me more firewhiskey in this, mate? I've had a long day."

"Yeah," Neville said, before taking the butterbeer and hurrying over to Colin, who was helping Ginny with the drinks.

Dean couldn't help it, but even though he knew Harry would kill him for thinking about it, he was thinking of where Harry would take her that would last a night, and what Harry's plan was for such a location. If it took a broom, it probably wasn't very close, but Dean supposed it could always be the local village. The problem was, it would get back to her father – or even just Dumbledore – and Harry would probably be castrated.

Neville handed Harry his drink again and Harry tried a sip, sighing with satisfaction at the improved levels of alcohol. He took another drag of his cigarette and said, "Neville, I need you to do me a favor."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I need you to talk Hermione into switching patrol nights with Cat."

Neville winced, glanced over at his girlfriend, and said, "Well, okay. But you owe me bigtime. Pick me up something in Brighton, will you?"

Dean almost dropped his drink. Brighton was a hell of a long way from Scotland.

/-/

The Slytherin common room was quiet, almost too quiet. Adrasteia sat in the corner with Daphne Greengrass, tapping her fingers on a closed textbook on her lap. She hadn't even looked at which book she had, just wanted something she could pretend she was supposed to be doing as she watched her classmates sulk about losing the Quidditch Cup once again to the Gryffindors. As though it were really a surprise, losing, given the captaincy genius of Harry Potter, something the female Weasley seemed to also have in spades.

It would be a while, Adrasteia decided, before they regained the trophy again.

"At this point," Daphne said softly, "it's just pathetic."

At first, Adrasteia thought her companion was talking about the Quidditch, but then she followed Daphne's gaze to where Pansy was trying to work her way into a conversation between Draco and Blaise, who were studiously ignoring her.

"I feel it passed pathetic quite some time ago," Adrasteia said softly.

What she had accepted that her mother didn't seem capable of was it took more than the right blood or birthright to get what one wanted. Something Astoria Greengrass had in common with Catherine was she simply went about her business, knowing her worth and understanding what she wanted, finding a way to match up the two. Adrasteia did not think she could ever heal the relationship she once had with her cousin, but at least she could avoid making the same mistakes as Pansy Parkinson.

/-/

Harry had planned the outing meticulously, which was the way he was most like his mother. She had drilled this particular skill into him from a very young age.

Granted, she probably hadn't expected him to use it to sneak his girlfriend across the country in the middle of the night in hopes that she would sleep with him. In fact, Harry would be willing to bet his mother hadn't anticipated he'd do something like this.

Otherwise, she would never have let Harry have a credit card for "emergencies," tied directly to his father's card.

The plan hinged on sneaking out twice, in actual fact. Harry had to get to a telephone, and there wasn't a public one anywhere in a very near vicinity. He had to fly in the middle of the night to the nearest Muggle town, large enough to have a telephone booth. He paid with a bit of Muggle change he kept around, and the operator connected him with a reputable hotel chain with a property in Brighton, which he had researched over Christmas.

"Hello, I'd like to make a reservation," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose before pulling out his credit card. "Do you have a room for this Saturday night?"

"Certainly, sir," a woman's cool, collected, forced-smile voice answered. "How many beds?"

"One," he said. "Room for two. Erm…queen sized?"

He thought that would be big enough. He couldn't remember how big that actually was, but he really hoped it would be big enough.

"Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Smoking," he said quickly, thinking of how many cigarettes they could share before, after, maybe even during, skin on skin. He had to clear his throat and shake his head to continue answering the woman's questions.

/-/

Neville cleared his throat to announce himself, and he said, anxiously, "Hermione, I need to ask you to do something for me."

She gave him a skeptical look, and he knew she knew it wasn't really for him. He hoped she wouldn't make a fuss about it, especially given he didn't want to have to tell her what Harry wanted the swap for. He had a feeling that sneaking out to get a hotel room and have sex was not the kind of thing she would think was worthy of a swap.

"What?" she said.

"Erm, can you switch your patrol schedule? Maybe you could do it…Saturday night? I think Kitty's got Saturday. You could swap with her?"

Hermione continued to look at him levelly and he was certain that she was going to ask why or say no outright. If she asked why, what would he say? Neville was already scrambling for some kind of reason not putting Harry's intentions under a microscope, because the last thing any of them needed was this getting back to Catherine's father.

"Okay," Hermione said, turning back to her book.

Neville felt his jaw drop and he tried to process what he just heard.

"Okay?" he asked. "You're not…you're not even going to argue or ask or…?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Neville, I've given up trying to be a good influence on Harry and Catherine. Whatever they're up to, I'd rather have some plausible deniability."

/-/

Catherine didn't know what Harry was up to in planning their date, but he told her that Neville had procured a swap from Hermione, so she would be patrolling on Monday night instead of Saturday. This suited her well enough, but her curiosity was tugging at her.

"I hear you did a swap," Padma said, cornering Catherine in the corridor. "It's been changed on the timetable. Why didn't you swap with me?"

Feeling slightly agitated, Catherine tried to think of a way to redirect Padma Patil's crush on her. She didn't have any ideas for the moment, but she was able to point out, truthfully, she'd not orchestrated the swap. Harry took care of it, so she hadn't really had the opportunity to ask Padma.

She didn't point out, although she could have, if she was going to be out and doing things with Harry on Saturday night, she was hardly going to be recovered enough to actually do her job. Somehow, it didn't seem the right thing to say to someone who was growing more and more attached to her.

Catherine had a wild idea to offer to make it up to her, but it was a dangerous, slippery slope she didn't particularly want to go down. For a brief, amused moment she thought maybe it wouldn't be so slippery if she offered a threesome of some kind, but she wasn't sure Harry would be comfortable, much less Padma, who was very clearly lesbian.

She supposed she could always ask him, but not right now. Right now she had to think about a dozen things for schoolwork, and had to contend with…whatever Harry had planned. If she didn't take things one day at a time until the end of the year, with everything going on in her life, she would probably have a hard time juggling everything to completion.

"I'll be in touch," Catherine said, and Padma gave her a kind of smirk Catherine could only term as triumphant.

In truth, as Catherine watched Padma go – or more accurately, watched Padma's legs go – she wondered why she'd said that. She blinked, slightly puzzled, but she shook her head and walked down to breakfast, where she knew Harry would be waiting for her. She barely noticed, as she walked into the Great Hall, her face was slightly flushed and her heartrate elevated, but when she glanced at the Ravenclaw table and saw Padma still looking triumphant, she realized Padma had noticed the flushed face. Catherine crossed to the Gryffindor table, where her friends were, and she purposefully took a seat across from Harry, her back to the Ravenclaw table.

She could still feel Padma's eyes on her back.

/-/

Luna could sense a strange and subtle shift in interactions between various people she didn't know. Almost as if the axis of energy at Hogwarts was tilting in a direction it never had before. She wondered what it might mean, and she thought about consulting her Divination text. After all, one could never be too careful.

But then, she thought, it was almost certainly the Nargles. The Slytherin regions of the school had some increase in the signs. Still, she thought, pulling out her textbook, never could one ever, ever be too careful.

/-/

Come Saturday, Harry told Catherine to dress something she could be on a broom, and something warm. She knew where and when to meet him, and she had the map. He used his cloak, slipping out of the Fat Lady's portrait hole, downstairs to the statue of the one-eyed witch, where Catherine was standing anxiously, tapping her fingers on the witch's hump.

Harry took a moment to take in her beauty, her natural waves pinned half up, the way those jeans looked hugging her thighs…. He couldn't wait to get to Brighton, and he almost wished he'd chosen someplace closer.

Taking off the cloak and passing it to her so she could put it in her rucksack, Harry watched the softening of her eyes at his appearance.

"Where are we going?" she asked, watching him open the passage they'd learned about through the map, into Honeydukes.

"We're getting off grounds," he said, motioning for her to slide in first, which she did. When he went in after her, he continued, "Then we're flying to a hotel."

"What?"

"A hotel," he said, his hands trembling. What if she thought it was a terrible idea? "Well, I mean, it's a long flight, and I figured you'd want to enjoy some actual time there, and we'll be too knackered to fly back tonight, but if you want…."

She said nothing for almost half a minute as they walked through the tunnel. Her hand slipped back into his and she said, "How long of a flight are we talking?"

His heart definitely skipped a beat. He could feel it in his ears.

"Well, technically about four hours of flying, but I'm almost certain I can shave that down to three and a half."

He was grinning. He couldn't help it. She could definitely hear it in his voice. She muttered something about wishing she'd brought gloves, but it hardly mattered. They were going to fly to Brighton together, to be along together for a whole night where no one in the world would know where they were, where they could be truly free of everything except each other for just one night.

And while Harry told himself it was something special for their first night together, they wouldn't make a habit of it, he was already beginning to think of other, if closer, places he could take her to get away.

Provided all went well.

 **A/N: So, Catherine's putting up a show of solidarity, Harry's got a plan, and they're on the way to Brighton!**

 **Review Prompt: How many ways can you see this going wrong? Or is it, perhaps, about to go right?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will we hear more in depth regarding how Kitty feels about Harry? (Guest)**

 **A: We definitely will, but I'll just say two things. First, be patient. Catherine's eventually going to have to open up, bigtime. Also, temper your expectations. Harry's the emotive, wordy one in this relationship, so even when she gushes, she won't be on the same level as him.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	98. Radiance

**A/N: You guys just keep peppering me with lovely reviews! I'm thrilled. Here's Bonus Ten this week!**

 **-C**

When they finally landed in sea air, Catherine's legs were wobbly and she felt slightly nauseous, but she wasn't about to complain. Harry had just flown her nearly the entire length of Great Britain just for them to have a date away from her father. Had he not had a Firebolt, she sincerely hoped he would never have made such a ridiculous decision, but as it could go over a hundred and fifty miles an hour….

She tried to sort out her hair as Harry Disillusioned his broom and strapped it to her rucksack, but he grinned at her.

"Leave it," he said. "It looks…perfect."

Had he said it any other way she would have chided him for insinuating that her hair looked perfect when it was in a mess, but she liked the way he was looking at her. It caused a warm pooling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Let's check in first," he said, gesturing up the street to a hotel. "Then we can decide if we want to go out or stay in."

Catherine agreed, taking his hand and walking into what seemed to be a fairly reasonable hotel for a couple of teenagers. She didn't want to know how much this was costing him – or rather, his father.

A tired, ample man behind a counter watched them enter the crisp lobby, and he stood as Harry approached the desk.

"May I help you?" the man asked, and Catherine appreciate that he was at least trying to use proper grammar, even if "can" might have worked better….

"Yes, I have a reservation for the night," Harry said, resting his elbow lazily on the counter. It was lucky he was so easy and confident, Catherine thought, or the man might grow suspicious of them as giggly teens. The man's eyes grazed Catherine, then turned back to Harry. "Under Potter," Harry prompted.

The man began to look through a list on a kind of box before nodding and frowning slightly.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Welcome, Mr. Potter. We have your room. May I swipe your card, please?"

Harry pulled out his wallet and produced a little plastic card Catherine knew to be a credit card. She wondered if his mother would know about this later, or if his father would be merciful and cover it up for them. She made a mental note to butter up Uncle James at the holiday.

The man did some typing on a keyboard and swiped the card in a groove before handing it back to Harry.

"Everything appears to be in order," the man said, nodding. He pulled a key from under the counter's overhang and passed it to Harry, who took it with thanks. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, actually," Harry said, pushing his glasses up slightly. "We've only just arrived in town. Is there anything to do this time of night that isn't clubbing?"

"Well, the lights are out on the pier," the man said, shrugging. "Restaurants will be closing soon. Would you care for room service?"

"No, thank you," Catherine said, smiling. "We ate on the way."

"Ah, train fare," the man said with a knowing smile.

She just smiled back, wondering what the man would say if he could see how they actually got there. The man gave them directions to their room, and to the lift, and Harry thanked him, leading the way.

"What makes it go?" Catherine whispered as Harry ushered her into the Muggle lift.

"Electricity, pulls, and cables, I expect," Harry said casually, pushing the little button for floor six, which began to glow as the doors closed.

Amazing how he thought that would comfort her.

/-/

Natalie was exhausted, but she sat up with Jason, regardless. He seemed, unlike her, to have endless energy, sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with her at his feet, her head resting against his lap. His fingers were tracing through her pale hair rhythmically, consistently, and he was working on an essay, she knew, with the other hand. They were aware Catherine and Harry were sneaking out of the castle, and Natalie's first instinct – especially given how prone to finding trouble those two were – was to tell an adult.

Jason had assured her it would be fine, and more trouble would result from telling an adult, which meant it would come back to their father.

"Jason," she said softly, hearing the tiredness in her own voice.

His hand paused for a moment and he said, "Did you want to go to sleep?"

Oh, she absolutely wanted to go to sleep, but she didn't want to leave him up alone, working, while she knew he was secretly worried about his sister.

"No," she lied. "I was just wondering…does your father know we're dating?"

"I expect so."

"And he's not upset?"

"Not that he's said to me."

She frowned as his hand relaxed into petting her hair again. After the way Professor Black had reacted to Harry dating Catherine….

"It's not because I'm a boy and she's a girl, Natalie," Jason said softly. "Catherine's…different. I expect it's because she looks so much like our mother, and all the shit she's gone through. Lots of things, really. It took a long time for him to feel alright letting her grow up."

Natalie hummed, feeling her consciousness slipping, struggling to cling to it as she pressed her face against the outside of Jason's thigh.

/-/

Harry's hands were shaking as he unlocked the hotel room. It wasn't massive, but it didn't have to be. The bed looked sizable, and Catherine was already taking off her rucksack, making his broom visible again and setting it on the luggage stand.

"Go ahead and take a bath," he said, not wanting to wait, but not wanting her to be uncomfortable. "If you want," he added as she gave him a quizzical look. "I mean, you don't have to, but I figured you'd be sore."

He was floored when she gave him a mischievous grin and said, "Why don't you join me, then? I imagine you're sore as well."

/-/

Rose Zeller had been awake after everybody else – or nearly everybody else – sitting up in the Hufflepuff common room. She saw Catherine Black sneak out, with a rucksack, and she toyed with the idea of alerting Professor Sprout.

She supposed if there was a fuss in the morning over missing students, she might mention it. Only if Caroline didn't tell her not to.

/-/

His heart was pounding as Catherine pulled off her top. He was turning on the water, checking the temperature, watching her shirt hit the floor as she undid her jeans. She was going slowly on purpose, he realized, so he thought he'd give her a bit of incentive. He pulled off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and unclasped her bra, watching her shoulders stiffen as he traced a finger down her spine.

"Your hand is cold," she said softly, before wriggling out of her jeans and shrugging the bra off her shoulders. She didn't turn around as he swallowed. He was already unbuckling his belt as he watched her pull off her panties. She'd barely turned around before she was feeling the bath water with a toe and Harry froze in undoing his jeans, watching her leg flex as she tested the water.

"Hmm," she said playfully. "Not half bad. Are you going to join me, or not?"

Harry quickly pulled of his jeans and boxers, desperate to touch her skin. She stepped into the tub, but she waited for him to sit down before she did, sitting between his legs, letting him wrap his arms around her as she leaned back against his chest.

They'd sat like this what felt like a hundred times, Harry mused, feeling the weight of her head against his shoulder as he buried his nose in her mussed up hair. But they'd never sat like this in water, or skin-on-skin.

"Your knees are really knobby," she said, tracing a finger around one kneecap.

He grinned, closed his eyes, and said, "Yeah, apparently I've got my grandad's knees."

"Why have I never seen your knees before?" she asked, straightening her legs and resting her ankles on the far end of the tub, on either side of the spout. "You've seen mine loads."

"I don't wear skirts," he teased. She snorted, and then he said, "And I didn't really wear swim trunks in France. I…I guess I'm a bit sensitive about them."

Catherine hummed as he moved some of her hair so that he could kiss her neck.

"I like them," she said. "They suit you."

It wasn't exactly how he planned starting the night, but Harry found there was a kind of closeness and pleasant calm in holding her like this. They said next to nothing as the tub filled, and sat in it until it began to grow a bit tepid, and Catherine, stood, gesturing before grabbing a couple of towels. Harry watched as she methodically toweled off her skin, hastily drying off his own. She was about to pick up her clothes, but Harry stayed her wrist, looking at her as she lifted her eyes to his.

They said nothing. She seemed to understand as she laced her fingers in his, dropped the towel, and led him back out to the bed. Harry found breathing difficult as she climbed onto the bed, and he slowly followed after her. She took off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table.

"I can't see," he said, feeling slightly anxious, but there was something strangely erotic in feeling her hand trace his collarbone when he could barely make out her face.

"That's alright," she whispered. "I can see, and you can feel. Use your fingers to find what you want."

Harry groaned as her fingers traced teasingly down his torso, past his waist. To distract himself from the torturous anticipation, he began to kiss his way down her neck, down to her breasts. As she wrapped a warm, soft hand around him he moaned against her nipple, praying the night would last forever.

/-/

Draco frowned at Aeson, who had asked to speak with him after midnight. They met in the common room, Draco checking it was truly empty before they began to speak. Aeson had presented him with a kind of opportunity.

"Obviously, I don't know the full details of your…altercation with Harry," Aeson said, smiling, "nor your injury afterward."

"Obviously," Draco said dryly. "Get on with it, Aeson."

"Well, it seems to me, in certain circles, particularly certain circles at the Dueling Club, your reputation has taken a bit of a hit."

With a hum, Draco glanced at the empty fireplace, thinking of which circles Aeson was referring to. Obviously, Harry's friends and Catherine's friends would see it as a defeat for Draco. Some of the select and awful types in Slytherin and Ravenclaw, perhaps. Hufflepuffs who were blindly loyal to Catherine, which seemed to be much of the House whether or not they actually liked her.

"What do you propose, exactly?" Draco asked.

"Call it, if you will, a rematch. But find a way to get the upper-hand."

Aeson just grinned, and Draco knew what he was getting at. The same upper-hand Harry used to wrong-foot Draco.

The element of surprise.

/-/

It hadn't lasted as long as Harry would have liked. _Harry_ hadn't lasted for as long as he would have liked, but Catherine didn't seem to mind, and even after he was spent, they continued to explore each other. Harry found a particular kind of pleasure in tasting every part of her skin, and of pressing his fingers deep between her folds, watching her body twitch and writhe in pleasure as he tried to continually stroke the spots seeming to drive her mad.

When her muscles contracted around his fingers and she reached up for him with drowsy arms, Harry knew they were both totally knackered, although he desperately wanted to start all over and do everything again.

/-/

With the year nearing its end, Sirius found himself longing more and more frequently to be with his wife. He had even thought of making a dash to London on a night or two, just to be with Cara. She would not complain, although it would certainly hamper his work if he was constantly skimping on sleep in order to make love with his wife. He supposed they could just share a bed, that they didn't have to have sex. Surely sleeping with her body beside his would remedy his sleepless nights and be a benefit to his productivity.

But then, he knew himself, and once he had the opportunity to kiss her, to smell her, he wouldn't be satisfied without having her.

And so he stared at his ceiling, fantasizing and telling himself to be content with fantasy.

/-/

Harry woke to the sun on his face and he groaned slightly, feeling sticky and having a numb sensation on his right arm. He turned and opened his eyes, pulling on his glasses to find Catherine was beside him, fast asleep, her head obviously pinching some kind of nerve. He thought of pulling out his arm, but he was afraid of waking her, of disturbing her when she looked so peaceful. Catherine never looked peaceful like when she was sleeping. He could almost believe she was innocent and sweet like this.

Closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of the sheets around his body, he thought of the night they'd had, of the way her body felt against his, of the breathy, gasping sounds she made when she came. His mouth went dry at the thought of how particularly wonderful it felt to see the so-together Catherine come completely undone. And he had done that.

She stirred on his arm and he opened his eyes again, seeing her face scrunch up. He felt less guilty about waking her, knowing she would only struggle against sleep if he let her. They would have to go back to the school eventually, and better sooner than later if they didn't want to be missed. It was still several hours back to Scotland, to Hogwarts. He would just take the Knight Bus, but he had a feeling it would end up in the papers that they were in Brighton when they should have been in school, and it would spoil everything.

Nudging her face gently with his face, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips and watched her part them slightly. So tempting, he thought. So tempting just to ease her lips open with his, to press his tongue between them and taste her mouth again, but he knew she would want to have a bit of say in her kisses. He whispered her name against her lips and she hummed slightly in sleepy acknowledgement, although not necessarily conscious acknowledgement.

"Cat," he said a bit louder. "Cat, wake up."

She groaned, trying to swat him away as she scrunched her eyes tightly shut. He smiled and brushed a bit of her hair out of her face as she finally opened her eyes, soft and slightly red in the morning light. She frowned at him before slowly smiling, obviously recalling where they were and what they'd done.

"Good morning," she said before kissing him gently. "I could get used to that."

"What?" he asked, knowing full well he was smiling like an idiot.

"Seeing you first thing," she said, almost shyly, before tracing her fingers up his neck to his jaw, coaxing him forward again for another kiss. He rolled them over so that he was on top of her, which was actually his polite way of getting her off his arm without killing the mood.

At least, that was how it started. The kiss led to another kiss, which turned into a flurry of kisses, all with Catherine pulling him down toward her face every time he thought about pulling away and being sensible.

Merlin, he didn't want to be sensible. He wanted to spread her legs beneath him and bury himself inside of her again, and again, and again, and never leave this room.

Before he lost all sense of their situation, though, he managed to pull away from her insistent, seductive kisses and say, "Cat, we've got to get back to the castle. If we don't leave kind of soon, they'll know we were gone."

Catherine hesitated, raising an eyebrow as she looked over at the clock on the bedside table.

"How about we have a cigarette first?" she said. "There's a pack in my rucksack."

She knew he would not deny her this, but he also knew a cigarette at this point, with them like this, would lead to so much more.

He fetched the pack regardless, wondering if he really wanted to be the strong one here.

/-/

Rabastan tried not to be so amused when Cara came to his home and paced his study while he worked, telling him about the frantic firecall she'd just gotten from her husband about how their daughter and the Potter boy had snuck out of the castle and come back around lunchtime. It wasn't terribly coherent, so Rabastan had asked her to explain.

Apparently, the couple had flown across the country in the dead of night, spent the night in a far-off city, and flown back when they were ready, which brought them to Scotland around lunchtime. If they'd not taken so long getting back, Rabastan mused, trying not to smile, they might have gotten away with it. As it was, Rabastan knew if Cara had known Sirius in school as Rabastan had, she wouldn't bat an eye at her daughter's behavior.

It was exactly the sort of thing Sirius would have done, albeit with mates instead of with a girlfriend. And Catherine was so much her father's daughter. Poor Harry, Rabastan mused, was just along for the ride.

 **A/N: Right, that's all from me for the night! Just watch, I'll wake up and y'all will have earned another…. So, Harry and Catherine have done the deed, they've been kind of caught (with minimal consequences for the moment), and regardless of consequences, they totally would say it's worth it.**

 **Review Prompt: Now they've crossed this line, what kind of consequences (not detentions or anything like that) do you think will happen without their realizing?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Padma affect Kitty and Harry's relationship? (MJ)**

 **A: Oh boy will she ever. :D No spoilers for now, but YES. She definitely will.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	99. Managing Consequences

**A/N: Here's your weekly update! We're super-close to 100 chapters, guys!**

 **-C**

Padma could sense the change in energy between Harry and Catherine after they – now infamously – snuck off for a night. She knew they'd had sex, and by the way Harry was looking at Catherine every time she was in view, Padma knew she would have to begin acting in earnest. The seeds were ripe, and there was a great deal of moving forward she could be doing, and if she didn't begin now she may not have the proper groundwork laid by the end of the next year.

She had big plans for Catherine Black, which she had long since conceded to herself had to be plans for Harry Potter, as well. While she had considered him a nuisance and a hindrance at first, Padma now saw him as an opportunity. What better way to cement things than to have them both on board?

It certainly improved the long-term planning, even if it added a layer of complication in immediacy.

She went about the week feeling a strange shift in the energy of the school not quite commensurate with the school year creeping to a close. At first Padma tried to tell herself it had to do with the fact she didn't have OWLs or NEWTs this year, and actually her schedule for exams would be relatively light. It changed the way she looked at things.

But Parvati noted she, too, noticed the shift in energy.

It was the conversation with Parvati, actually, that made Padma well and truly nervous.

"Actually, I think I feel the most uncomfortable, when we pass Slytherins in the corridors."

Padma perked up, puzzled.

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, it's sort of like the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match and how I feel like I'm going to be attacked for about three weeks," Parvati said, glancing across the Charms corridor to where Malfoy and Zabini were taking in low voices. She frowned. "Especially if Harry Potter is walking with us. I get this feeling like…like there's some kind of vendetta, and like I really don't want to be there when it finally does explode."

Parvati then asked if Padma had any more of the Blackcurrant Breeze lipstick, because she'd run out of her own and was devastated she couldn't get any more until they went home.

And just like that, the cloud that had been over her twin passed, but Padma was still focused on the cloud, glancing across to the boys with a slight frown, wondering if whatever this was could hurt her plans.

"Oh, you know, Sally-Anne was just asking me the other day if I eat bread," Parvati added with a giggle as they passed the Charms courtyard. "Can you believe it? Like, who doesn't eat bread, Merlin. Anyway, I think it's because she struggles so much with her figure. I try to give her tips, but it just doesn't seem to help."

Padma tuned her sister out, feeling a kind of numbness, a kind of separation from her body as she focused her mind on things needing to be done, things needing to be observed, but her body just carried her to lunch.

/-/

Dean found preparing for exams tiring, but when they arrived, he realized he was actually among the more relaxed students. Sixth year exams, it would seem, were like a lovely break from chaos. The expectation was they gave you things to think about, to continue your studies and reading over the summer, so when you came back for year seven, you would be prepared for what was often known as a kind of living hell.

Catherine Black seemed to be the only fifth year in the entire year who looked completely unaffected by the OWL exams, sitting at breakfast on the morning of her last exams looking smooth and pleasant as always, buttering her toast with steady hands. Her eyes were bright and clear, her hair immaculate, her posture alert and confident. By contrast, Ginny Weasley looked exhausted, with bloodshot eyes, shaking hands, dark circles, and disheveled hair.

"Sure you don't want my notes?" Harry offered, smiling at Catherine, who looked at him coolly.

"If you honestly believe," she said with that confident smile, "that I would possibly need your notes for Transfiguration, you're sorely mistaken, darling."

Dean took a drink of pumpkin juice to hide his amusement.

/-/

Harry had a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, a sense of déjà vu, as the very last exams were let out. The sixth year students were reaching a convergence on the third floor between their just-let-out test and the second-year Slytherin and Gryffindor Potions practical, who were on their way up to their Transfiguration exam, the very room Catherine was waiting outside to walk Harry out to the grounds. His heart skipped and stuttered at the sight of her, but it faded quickly.

She wasn't smiling, obviously sensing that same déjà vu. When the first spells were fired, Harry realized this was a kind of ambush quite some time in the making. He turned to Draco, expecting to be able to team up as Prefects with him and Catherine to put a stop to things, especially after what had happened to Catherine just a year ago.

Perhaps memories were short, or perhaps Draco had yet to forgive Harry for the grave mistake he'd made when the three of them were alone, because instead of seeing an ally and a friend when he looked at Draco's gray eyes he saw a stranger, cold and angry.

Harry's wand was out in a flash, but not a quick enough flash for Draco's curse, which Caroline deftly deflected. He shouted a word of thanks at her before she turned her attentions to Aeson, who seemed intent on besting her in a real-life dueling situation, not just in the sanitized version in classes or meetings.

Harry could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and Catherine took on Draco, drawing him away as Harry struggled alone to usher away students who clearly weren't capable of holding their own, particularly younger students just dazed and caught in the fray. He'd managed to get about half a dozen students out of danger, directing them toward a nearby staircase. Hermione was trying to put shields between people, but Neville and Ron weren't making it easy for her, eagerly targeting other students, and Ron managed to stumble in the way of Blaise's Stunning Spell that had been aimed at Catherine, probably to free up Draco to look for Harry again.

The corridor had become a kind of battle zone, full of lights and small explosions, cries and the calling out of spells. People were trying to dodge spells, shield, cast, or even just find friends in the chaos. Harry was trying to get eyes on Catherine, and he heard a scream. He didn't recognize it, but before he could panic, he saw Caroline and Catherine dueling back to back, with Aeson and Draco as the aggressors. Harry was trying to think of a suitable spell to separate them when two strong, deep voices began a series of spells to immobilize everyone. He felt his body collapse beneath him, and he saw the faces of Uncle Sirius and Professor Snape as the smoke and flash of spells were clearing.

/-/

For the bulk of the student body, nothing was changed. Virginia Wimple had been present, but she'd been ushered away by Potter before she'd seen anything too terrible, or been hit with anything worse than an Itching Jinx.

While she had the jinx reversed, she overheard Professor Black telling Professor McGonagall a girl had died during the duel. Virginia would have thought she'd misheard him, if not for the way Professor McGonagall's face drained of color before Virginia's eyes. Never had she seen the severe woman worry about anything, and yet here she was, clearly terrified.

The name Sally-Anne Perks meant nothing to Virginia, but based on the solemn faces at the Gryffindor table, she'd been a Gryffindor, likely a sixth year because of who had been involved in the clash. Granger's eyes were red and swollen as Longbottom comforted her, and Potter stared at a plate all through dinner, before Professor Dumbledore stood and confirmed the rumors, that a girl, a Gryffindor named Sally-Anne Perks had taken a fall down a staircase during the impromptu duel in the corridor, and she had not survived impact with the wall at the bottom of the landing. A funeral was announced, and students were told anyone wishing to give their sympathies to her parents were welcome to write notes or cards to be delivered to the family when they came to retrieve the body.

Virginia went off her appetite for hours.

/-/

Harry felt numb, watching Catherine as her father chastised her and her sister for their involvement in the duel, particularly Catherine for not working harder to end it. Professor Snape was having words with Aeson and Draco, and Professor McGonagall was waiting for the arrival of Sally-Anne's family.

But all Harry could think of, with a grotesque feeling in the pit of his stomach, was the image of Catherine, unconscious, in an infirmary cot. How similar it had looked to Sally-Anne's broken body laid out on a cot, before they pulled the sheet over his classmate.

Harry determined in that moment, he would never, ever deny Catherine anything she asked for ever again. Humans were so terribly fragile, and to Harry, that fragility just was not acceptable.

/-/

Ron felt numb as Hermione babbled on about points, about how Sally-Anne had plans to go to the alps with her family over the holiday. It didn't matter, and he was sure of that. He felt a strong, burning kind of anger at Draco for starting things in the first place.

"Don't blame Draco," Ginny said angrily as Neville pointed out Draco was probably in a lot of trouble. "Blaise said it was Aeson's fault."

Ron didn't hear the conversation between Hermione and Ginny about where to apportion blame. He was wondering when his baby sister had gotten on first-name basis with Blaise Zabini.

/-/

The funeral was on a warm June day, but Catherine was freezing. She stood in black dress robes and dressy shoes, standing with her classmates, ignoring the trembling of Ryana Cotton as they watched various people from the girl's family and friends, and Professor McGonagall even, say things about one of the most anonymous people at Hogwarts.

Catherine wondered if it was cruel to think of the dead in that way, but from the things her family said about her, one might have thought that Sally-Anne was the life and soul of the party, popular and pretty and brilliant all rolled into one. To Catherine, that kind of inflation of facts was just as disrespectful to the dead as thinking the less-flattering truth, or more disrespectful, even.

Her eyes crossed to the Gryffindors, where Harry was standing between Hermione and Ron. He kept glancing over at her, had been looking at her periodically since they'd learned of the tragedy. Catherine felt a chill down her spine when she realized that he was checking to see she was okay. How could she not be okay, she thought, but she supposed after what happened the year before there was some reason for him to be concerned.

When Professor Dumbledore released people to mill about, help themselves to refreshments, or go to the castle as desired, Catherine stood still, watching Harry hurry to her side.

"I'm fine, Harry," she said, touching his cheek. Her father was probably watching them, but she didn't even care. Her father could judge her all he wanted for getting pulled into the fight. He hadn't been there, hadn't seen the fury in Draco's eyes as he turned his wand on Harry.

"I know," he said, although the tension in his neck suggested otherwise. "I know. You're always fine, Cat."

But she wasn't, and she knew he was trying to convince himself not to worry. She kissed his lips gently, ignoring the disapproving look of Professor McGonagall as she led Harry back toward the castle.

She was startled to see Lucius Malfoy stalk in front of them, his eyes narrowed as he looked between her and Harry. Why was he coming to the funeral of a Muggle-born?

But then, Catherine recalled he was on the board of governors for the school. He had to be here, if only for appearances, and she should have thought of that before she kissed Harry in the middle of a mostly-public place. Of course, Draco would have mentioned the relationship to his father, especially now he was angry with Harry, but giving visual proof of the situation was…terrible.

"Miss Black," Uncle Lucius said sternly, his gray eyes flashing. "Am I to understand that your contract has been dissolved?"

"Certainly not," Catherine said coolly, wishing someone would rescue her. She wasn't nearly well-versed enough in the social intricacies of contracts to dig her way out of this one without help.

"Then perhaps you can explain to me why you are on the arm of a man who is not your fiancé."

Catherine could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to reason out a way out of this mess. She wanted to search the crowd for Snape, but she was afraid if she turned her gaze from Lucius's, she'd show her weaknesses, show her hand.

/-/

Ginny looked around for Catherine, who had promised to take a walk with her around the lake while all the sobbing was going on. She spotted Catherine clinging to Harry's arm, which wasn't unusual, but Lucius Malfoy looked like he'd had his birthday and Christmas all rolled into one, and Catherine didn't seem equally pleased.

Acting without thinking, Ginny strode over to Professor Snape, who was having a soft, intense conversation with Professor Black and she cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, sir?" Ginny said boldly, knowing whatever either man thought of her interruption now, they'd be glad of it later. She wasn't specifically sure how she knew it, but it was like knowing she'd seen the Snitch in the final match of the year. Some things she just knew.

Both men looked at her with mild irritation, but Professor Black's face softened at the sight of a student and he said, "Yes, Ginny?"

"I thought you might be interested in knowing Kitty's being accosted by an all-too-pleased Lucius Malfoy," Ginny said loftily. "Ta, sirs."

She walked away for added effect as both men turned their attention to the scene in question, their faces darkening as they stalked over.

Catherine owed her so much chocolate.

/-/

Sirius slipped behind his daughter as Severus held out his arm to Catherine, who took it without hesitation. To Harry's credit, he said not a word, perhaps understanding the importance of upholding the contract for the time being.

"Lucius," Severus said coolly. "Is there something I might help you with?"

A group of second year girls giggled and whispered as they passed, no doubt finding it hilarious how their professor was engaged to a student, but Sirius couldn't worry about that right now. His daughter came first, before anything else.

"Tell me, Severus," Lucius said almost gleefully, "did you know your fiancée has been all but cuckolding you before the wedding has even happened?"

Sirius fought the urge to punch his cousin's husband in the face, knowing however Severus chose to deal with this would be as good or better, if not as physically satisfying.

/-/

Jimmy walked with Cora, who was watching the family of the dead girl. She'd been in their house, but neither of them had really met her, or could even remember what her voice sounded like or what color her eyes were.

"It's so strange, isn't it?" Cora said softly, walking a bit closer to him. Jimmy felt his chest swell with a strange kind of pride at her closeness, although he knew it probably had little to do with him. She just felt small, as death made them all feel. "I mean, she was just a normal girl, an average person who'd been finishing her exams, one year away from graduating and going out into the world, the place where things are supposed to get harder. And now she's dead."

Jimmy nodded. He didn't know what to say, didn't have any answers, but he absolutely agreed. It was so, so strange.

/-/

Sirius felt his jaw twitch as Severus said coolly, "Since when has the pureblood society been one of complete faithfulness, Lucius? My fiancée is a young woman and a student. She is perfectly at liberty to explore her youthful desires and physicality with Mr. Potter, as she is not currently at liberty to explore such things otherwise."

Although it seemed to do the trick of horrifying and embarrassing Lucius in one fell blow, Sirius felt slightly sick at the implication that one day his daughter would share a bed with Severus. Even knowing it wouldn't happen didn't make Sirius feel better. Thoughts were in his head that were bad enough of Catherine with any male, but so much worse with Severus Snape.

"I see," Lucius said tightly, his eyes flicking to Harry, then to Sirius, then back to Catherine where they narrowed. He bowed his head generally to the males present and then bowed lower, obviously about to kiss Catherine's hand as was customary, but he thought better of it under the gaze of Sirius and Severus, both glaring at him for even thinking of touching Catherine with his lips. He straightened his back once more and cleared his throat awkwardly before saying a few pointless and mildly nonsensical words of parting. As soon as he was well out of earshot and carrying on a conversation with the Minister, Sirius turned to Catherine and shook his head.

"Kitty-Kat, I know you have my approval now, but could you maybe still carry out some propriety, my darling?"

Her lips twitched at the word "propriety" from his mouth, and he knew it was definitely too much to ask. She was far too much like her father for her own good.

 **A/N: So, a death at Hogwarts, Lucius gets a slap in the face, and Padma is plotting.**

 **Review Prompt: If she weren't with Harry, and somehow Catherine ended up marrying Severus, how happy of a married life d'you reckon they'd have, where one is them screaming at each other every day and ten is utter marital bliss with lots of babies (or maybe just one baby…hard to imagine Snape with lots of babies….)**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why didn't Snape confiscate the book when Harry was using it from the beginning of the year? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Yeah, that's one of my weaker plot points, I'll admit. I imagine Harry would have changed covers (like he did in the books), and I think Severus would have had some small hope Catherine would examine the book and use it too, without having the responsibility of having to tell her father, "Yeah, I gave your daughter a book that had all the Dark and dangerous spells I created while we were at school. No big deal." He underrated Harry's ability to use the spells and overestimated Catherine's curiosity over them.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	100. Occasional Sobriety

**A/N: Here's a bonus! Didn't think y'all were gonna get there, but my dear friend** _ **AvinaNox**_ **popped us over the edge! Enjoy.**

 **-C**

The feast was not celebratory.

Remus supposed the feast shouldn't be celebratory, although he missed the usual festive atmosphere. He was reminded perhaps a bit too keenly of his own school days, of his seventh year when Mary MacDonald died, and how it changed everything for their group.

The students gathered in the Hall and he watched how Catherine and Harry settled where they could look at each other during the feast. He smiled slightly to himself, noticing Sirius had stiffened beside him, and assumed he had seen, as well.

But then Remus noticed Caroline was sitting with Damon, holding hands on top of the table, and Jason was sitting quite close to Natalie McDonald.

It must be a sickening feeling, Remus supposed, to be a parent. To watch your children growing up, and poor Sirius had a front row seat as their professor. Remus felt his lips twitch as Albus leaned over and said, "You know, Sirius, Miss McDonald is a lovely young lady. I expect your mother would have rolled over in her grave at the thought of a Muggle-born marrying your heir, however."

At this, Sirius perked up, considering the scene before them again, and Remus had a feeling he knew what his old friend was thinking. His most precious daughter to a half-blood son of a blood traitor, his son and heir to a Muggle-born witch, and his youngest and in many ways most talented child to an admittedly pure-blooded boy from a long line of blood traitors. In many counts, it was ideal. The only thing that might have made it better was if Damon were actually a Squib, but Remus supposed one couldn't have everything in life, not even Sirius Black.

"A lovely girl indeed," Remus said, smiling. "And very responsible. At least if they married, one wouldn't have to worry about irresponsible people running your family line. Jason is wonderfully level-headed, but if he were to have a fickle wife…."

Remus shrugged, not wanting to say out loud what he knew Sirius could deduce for himself. Jason was very much like his mother, in that if you pushed him hard enough you would find a hard interior deep within, but it was difficult to push him to that point because he was much more willing to resolve conflict that he was to fight for what he wanted. Not always a poor trait, but with the wrong life partner, disastrous.

"Are you proud, Black," Severus said dryly, "that your daughter's House won the Cup again, or are you disappointed that yet again they won because your own House lost an incredible number of points because of a mass altercation?"

At this, Sirius smirked and said, "Just pleased that your House lost again because of instigating a mass altercation with mine, Severus. If there's anything I'm proud of, it's that Catherine can hold her own with NEWT level students in a subject that is not her best. Pass the potatoes, will you, Remus?"

Remus just shook his head, smiled, and passed the potatoes as directed.

/-/

Caroline enjoyed Damon's hand in hers during the feast, although she thought she might have enjoyed it more if she weren't sitting in a room decorated in Hufflepuff colors. She was furious with her cousin, whom she held entirely responsible for the whole mess with the duel, and she knew by the way it was planned, Slytherin and Gryffindor had effectively handed the House Cup to Hufflepuff – again. She enjoyed a good fight as much as anyone – perhaps more than most – but she supposed there was a time and place for such things, and she had enough of a practical side to know that if this happened every year she wasn't going to be able to help Gryffindor win the House Cup in any meaningful way.

She thought of calling truce with Aeson, but she didn't think it would do much good. The pair of them had never managed to hold a truce long.

Damon squeezed her hand slightly, and she knew he could sense her tension. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand back, happy to see the way he lit up when she smiled. Nothing seemed to be nearly as bad when he looked at her like that.

/-/

Aeson frowned, knowing that Caroline would give him that look periodically, the look that said she blamed him for something. She usually blamed him for everything.

"It didn't work out as planned, I'll admit," Aeson said mournfully, glancing up at the Head Table and feeling a sting of shame. His Uncle Sirius would, no doubt, have words with Aeson's father about the event, about what Aeson's part in planning and instigating it was, but Aeson would try to hold his head up high and explain his position deftly.

"Understatement," Draco said bitterly, glancing over at Catherine, who was sitting with a proud back and slightly flushed face, looking particularly attractive, as she always did for big events.

Aeson knew Catherine was what made Draco regret his part in the matter, not the swathe of points lost or the detentions to be served upon return to the school. If she hadn't been there, he doubted Draco would have thought twice about it, but recalling her coma, and thinking of what had happened to the Perks girl, what could just as easily have happened to Catherine….

Well, Aeson thought they might have gone a bit far on that count, as well.

Professor Snape had expressed his displeasure with his students, taking a particularly long time chastising Draco, who apparently had added responsibility to avoid such unsavory situations as a Prefect, never mind what had been done to him, never mind what had been done to him by Potter. Never mind any of that.

Aeson supposed he was a bit jealous of his cousins, of the special dispensations they seemed to have because their father was the famous Sirius Black, because he was their teacher, and now in part because Professor Snape was legally engaged to Catherine. It just seemed they always got whatever they wanted, always won all the prizes, always had the ability to bend all the rules. Potter could get away with it when Draco couldn't because Potter was important to Catherine. Caroline would always be given the better defensible position in the Dueling Club because she was the teacher's daughter, and Aeson was just a half-nephew.

"The train," Blaise said softly. "We can talk more on the train tomorrow. Best not to discuss it here."

All the boys nodded, and Aeson was pleased Blaise decided they would continue the conversation, even if it wasn't until the next day. Aeson felt he needed to get Draco to see things from his point of view, to make sure Draco wasn't drawn in again by Catherine and her seemingly endless ability to entrance everyone into doing exactly what she wanted them to do. Aeson would never be able to one-up Caroline if he couldn't get Draco to support his plans with his numbers of followers. Aeson didn't have Draco's charisma. Unfortunately, all that had gone to Brontes, and Brontes didn't seem to have any desire to use that charisma for anything.

Aeson went down to bed that night and paused before going into his dormitory, seeing Brontes settling by the fireplace with a book. He wanted to yell at his brother for not joining, for not understanding. But Brontes was, as it might be called, unpolitical, and Aeson knew he needed to find other forums of support.

/-/

Harry pulled Catherine aside as they walked out to the carriages and he showed her the tickets he'd bought the week before, arrived just before the whole mess with the Slytherins. She smiled, reading the tickets and looking up at him with mild astonishment. He knew she was wondering when he got them, and how, but he just winked at her, glad he could still astonish her.

"How…how are we going to get there?" she asked, tracing her fingers up his arm.

"Leave me to worry about that," he said, kissing the corner of her mouth in case her father was nearby. "I got us out before, didn't I? And Hogwarts is way harder to sneak out of."

"We got caught," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, yeah, after," he said, laughing as he slipped the tickets into the pocket with one hand and slipped his hand into hers with the other. "But that's not likely to happen again, anyway. And if it does, we'll just have to make sure we've got a way to see each other even if they ground us from each other."

Catherine hummed, looking across the way at someone, frowning, before pulling Harry into a carriage and closing the door after him quickly. He assumed it was her father, and he melted into the kisses she pressed to his lips as she straddled his lap with the carriage moving toward the village. It wasn't a long drive, but for a short while, he was in heaven again.

/-/

Ourania frowned as Aeson stopped her. She liked teasing him, liked the way he would rise to her poking, but she didn't like the way he was pressing the matter while his cousin was mad at him. He slipped into step with her toward the train and she said, "Caro wouldn't like you stopping me like this."

"I need to know something."

"Shoot."

"If there ever came a time," he said softly, "where you had to choose, me or her, would you choose?"

"Stupid question," she said with a wink, knowing he had to just be winding her up. "You know I have to think about my brother's happiness."

Before he could make stupid comments about her happiness, she blew him a playful kiss and hurried onto the train to find her people. She didn't have to turn around to know he was giving her a frustrated smirk. She knew him well enough by now.

/-/

Harry thought there was something almost distant about Catherine on the way back to London, but he didn't complain, just watching her as he sat with his arm around her, feeling the weight of her head against his shoulder as their friends gossiped and swapped sweets. He breathed in her hair, thinking of asking her to have a little stop to smoke in one of the toilets on the train, just to cool down whatever was going through her head, to get a chance to ask her what she was thinking and maybe have some time alone to kiss her the way he'd been aching to all day. But if they were caught, either by one of their peers or by her father, he knew it would be a damper to the beginning of summer. She told him she had something she wanted to talk with him about during the break, that it wasn't urgent, that it could wait until they were out at the Falcons match he'd got them tickets for, or maybe after it.

Harry wished she'd not mentioned it at all, whatever it was. She obviously knew how such tidbits were torture to him, and he suspected she enjoyed watching him suffer. And if Harry really thought about it, he would have told himself that he did, in fact, enjoy the suffering almost as much as when she appeased him.

Catherine surprised him by pulling his face toward hers when he was going to ask her if she wanted any sweets from the trolley, and Harry held his breath, melting into the kiss with her lips warm and supple against his. He barely heard the tittering of her friends, the small gagging sound Ron made playfully. He briefly forgot there was anyone else even there. He couldn't wait to have her out on their own again, where he could kiss her in front of anyone and not worry about anything except how it felt to hold her.

/-/

Lily felt mildly amused and mostly proud when she saw her son walking into King's Cross with Catherine holding his hand, talking with him lazily as her father came scowling after them, leading her siblings and their friends. She knew Sirius was still struggling with his baby dating, but Lily had no such issues with her only child. It was good to see how he was growing, to see most of her fears about having a child who looked so much like James were unfounded. Mostly.

/-/

The first night back, the Potters were in London to have dinner at Grimmauld Place with the Blacks, and Harry took the opportunity to sneak off into the house with Catherine as soon as he found a moment. She pulled him into a flurry of kisses, pulling him into her bedroom before he could clear his head and protest, and he found himself sitting on the foot of her bed as she sat, straddling his lap. He was having a hard enough time figuring out how to breathe when she said, "Would you mind awfully if we maybe had a threesome sometime?"

"Sorry?" he asked, not even sure he understood that there were words she'd said, as she'd said them between pressing kisses to his neck.

"It's just I know a girl who wants to maybe have a threesome with us sometime, and I said I'd have to ask if you were even interested in that sort of thing. You wouldn't even have to touch her if that made you feel weird. Maybe you'd like to see her touch me, though."

Harry didn't really know what he thought about it. He figured it was Padma, given earlier questions about making out with girls from time to time, but it seemed to be something she wanted. And the last thing Harry wanted was to say no to something she wanted, provided it wasn't going to hurt her. He couldn't see how it would hurt her if he was there to watch out for her, and Padma had always seemed harmless, if a bit pushy.

"If you want to, Cat," he said, smoothing his hands through her hair. "It's up to you. I really don't mind."

And he didn't, really. He couldn't imagine wanting to touch anyone but her, but it was a bit of a relief that her idea of a threesome was with another girl, not with some other guy. Maybe it shouldn't have been, but Harry took small comfort in that as he savored these few solitary moments with her.

/-/

Remus sat with Severus in the Hog's Head, neither looking at their bottles of firewhiskey, neither looking at each other. Remus thought with a pang of guilt of the look of horror on Catherine's face when she learned of the death of Sally-Anne Perks, perhaps thinking how easily that could have been her the year before.

"Maybe it's for the best," Remus muttered before drinking a few burning swallows of firewhiskey.

"What?" Severus prompted brusquely.

"That we never had children or wives or anything," Remus said. "We've our hands full enough just trying to help Sirius keep his children alive. You know, James keeps joking about becoming a professor when Albus retire?"

"Merlin's shorts," Severus snorted. He lifted his bottle and said, "May Albus never, ever, ever retire."

Remus smirked, keeping his own bottle conspicuously down as Severus gulped down a rather large drink. He knew Severus had dodged the matter of families purposefully. He had a strong sense Severus sometimes regretted not having the kind of life their friends had, particularly when he had individual lessons with Catherine, having the opportunity to train a special talent as his protégée.

But Remus would never tell.

/-/

Harry paced his bedroom, realizing his parents could probably hear, but he didn't really care. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was seeing Catherine, seeing her bare body as he had in Sussex, imagining her so vividly, wishing she hadn't mentioned the thing about threesomes. Now his mind kept wondering what it would look like, seeing another girl touching her, seeing her touching another girl. What it would be like.

He shivered and walked down to the kitchen, surprised to find his father up, making two cups of cocoa. Harry sat down as his father stirred one of the cups and slid it across the table to him, winking.

"Helps me when I can't sleep," his father said. "I've added a dash of a calming draught, too. Don't tell your mum. It's what I do when I'm too worked up."

Harry nearly spat out the mouthful of cocoa he'd drawn into his mouth at the way his father very blatantly brought up the fact Harry's parents had a sex life. Of course, it was an obvious fact, but Harry didn't really want to think about it.

"It's not easy," his father said, smiling without too much sympathy. "I mean, we're supposed to be wired that way, but women definitely have it easier, if you ask me."

Just grunting in hope the conversation would end, and quickly.

"Look, Harry," his father said, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully as Harry eagerly drank the cocoa. "I know you're planning to sneak off sometime soon. Concert?"

Harry flushed, shrugged, and said, "Quidditch."

His father brightened at this and said, "I won't say anything if you two are responsible. But don't make it hard on me, okay? Kitty's father is my oldest friend, you know. Take care of her. You're not children anymore, and I'm not going to treat you like a child. She's taking something?"

"Yeah," Harry said, shrugging. "She's making a potion and using a Charm she looked up."

He still felt tightness in his shoulders at the thought of his father knowing or guessing about his sex life, and he wondered what his father might guess about some of the things Catherine was surely planning, but instead he just hoped it never came up.

And when Harry stumbled back upstairs and slipped into bed, he was able to sleep, but his dreams were plagued with the images of soft skin and a sensation of exhilarated frustration that only came from being toyed with by Catherine.

 **A/N: So, Draco feels remorse, Aeson's still a prat, and Harry and Catherine are plotting plots.**

 **Review Prompt: If each character were a vegetable… pick three characters and tell me what vegetable they would be.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Did they use contraception? (EVERYONE)**

 **A: Because this was such a big thing for y'all, in case you missed it above, YES. Catherine is a planner, even when she's being an idiot. I didn't want practical matters to spoil the moment, so I put off talking about it. Funny how many of you FLIPPED and fixated on that.**

 **Q: Is [Padma] trying to lure Kitty into a compromising position to blackmail her? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Nope! No blackmail involved, but you're wheels are certainly turning. Try thinking…bigger.**

 **-C**


	101. Battleground

**A/N: I woke up to enough chapters for a second bonus, so I'm tossing this up before your regular, weekly update! Enjoy, and know you'll get another very soon.**

 **-C**

Catherine said she had a headache and was planning to spend some time alone in the attic, waiting to breathe her sigh of relief at being believed until she snuck down to the kitchen, where Harry was already hiding, slipped into the boiler room to wait.

"If we go out the front door they'll hear us," she said darkly.

"We're going to go out the sitting room window," he said, before kissing her. Catherine melted against him, enjoying the kiss after about a week without seeing him apart from in their two-way mirrors. She had half a mind to say screw the match and pull him up to her bedroom, but they were more likely to be caught in her bedroom than they were in Falmouth.

She carefully crept him up to the sitting room, where they propped open the window and readied to take off out the window. Once they were outside on his Firebolt, Harry used a quick Charm to close the window again and Catherine wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing her face to his shoulder from behind.

"How long?" she asked as he quickly flew them far enough to look like birds to the Muggles of London.

"Couple of hours," he said. "I won't go as fast as last time."

A couple of hours on a broom was more than she really wanted to spend, but she just sighed and pressed her face closer to him, feeling the warmth and solidity of his body with a kind of comfortable satisfaction. If all went well, she had a feeling she could talk him into getting a room in Cornwall, if only for a couple of hours. Provided the game didn't go a week or something. She'd have to send a message home if it went longer than a day or so.

As if reading her mind, Harry said loudly, "My dad knows where we're going. He guessed we were sneaking out, said our secret's safe. But if we don't come home in a timely manner, they won't worry. He'll tell the rest of our parents if the game's a long one."

She relaxed against his back and listened to the racing rhythm of his heart. Harry smelled of his spicy soap and sweat, and when she closed her eyes she could easily recall him in hotel sheets, nervous but eager, uncertain but desperate to please. He had no idea how much of a turn-on it was, knowing he would do anything to please her. The temptation to abuse that was high, but Catherine told herself as long as she could recognize it for what it was, everything would be fine.

After all, her father would do anything to please her mother, and they were still fine. As far as she was aware, nothing totally unforgivable or morally reprehensible had occurred in satisfying her mother's wishes.

Then again, Catherine thought somewhere above the farmlands of Cornwall, she wasn't her mother. She needed excitement and new things and a feeling of exhilarating loss of control that her mother didn't seem to have any need for. Jason was the one like their mother, and he'd picked a girlfriend who was well-mannered and well-ordered and, if Catherine was being blunt with the whole matter, boring.

"Nearly there," Harry said, and she realized she must have grown tense with the long journey. She wasn't used to riding a broom at all, much less for hours on end at high speeds, like Harry was. And really, most of his long broom rides were at more reasonable speeds, cruising over a Quidditch pitch, with short bursts of speed as needed. She sighed against his back, adjusting her arms because she was too afraid to adjust her legs to alleviate the numbness in her bum.

When they finally landed in the vicinity of the pitch, Harry had his broom checked at the station for it (since they didn't want spectators bringing brooms into the pitch and interfering with the match) and he kissed her cheek, clearly thrilled to be able to share this with her. Catherine smiled, lacing her fingers in his and following him up to the pitch.

/-/

Cora sat in her room, ignoring the noise of Ourania tormenting Damon as she opened a letter from Jimmy, feeling her cheeks grow hot with the realization that Ourania was right – Jimmy had written to her every day since the start of summer holidays. The letters weren't particularly long, and she'd supposed initially he was writing to all of them that much, but Natalie assured her by telephone that Jimmy hadn't written to her once, and he'd only written to Jason the once, to clarify the day Jason was going to come over to his house for a boys-only sleepover.

The letter was silly, she thought, reading the hastily scribbled words with a strange sense he'd probably labored over them far longer than she was spending reading them. Had he filled a wastebasket with not-quite-right letters? Had he decided this was the perfect letter to say what he really wanted her to read? And here she was, practically skimming the words about how he'd spent his afternoon, and a book he'd started reading but got bored with, and could she recommend something more his style?

She set the letter aside and rubbed her hands together thoughtfully. Was this something she wanted to encourage? Was she…interested in pursuing something with Jimmy like the weirdness between Jason and Natalie?

But she couldn't help being flattered, and while she decided she could decide later, she began considering her bookshelf for a recommendation suitable for Jimmy.

/-/

Harry felt incredibly proud as they entered the stands, especially when a middle-aged woman seemed to recognize them – probably from the papers – and began gossiping to her husband animatedly. Harry put his arm around Catherine as the referee blew the whistle. He knew they were more likely to get in trouble if gossip magazines wrote about them being at the match, but for now he just wanted to enjoy the distinction of being Catherine's boyfriend.

/-/

Delia Lestrange smoothed her dress robes and adjusted a bangle on her wrist as she waited to greet the next guests, the Malfoys. She knew her husband hated having these luncheons when he would rather lock himself up and make models. Especially when the Blacks never deigned to come when Delia invited them, claiming all sorts of reasons why they were unable to attend, usually having to do with stress on Catherine, who supposedly found them unnerving.

She put on a smile as the Malfoys approached the front of the manor, and she kissed Narcissa's cheek before presenting her hand for Lucius and Draco to kiss. She saw Draco looked pale and distracted, and she suggested he find Adrasteia, who was frightfully bored, as the Greengrasses had yet to arrive. He perked up sharply, and Delia briefly wondered what the cause was before Narcissa shooed her husband on to get a drink while she had a word with Delia.

"I worry about them both," Narcissa said with a soft frown. "They are at odds. Tell me, what do you know about the Greengrass girl?"

"Which one?" Delia asked lightly, knowing this must have to do with courtship. She eagerly waited to start gathering information so she could follow developments.

"Astoria."

Delia smirked, linked her arm into Narcissa's as they waited for the Greengrasses to arrive, and she prepared to give out all the information she knew about Astoria Greengrass.

/-/

The first signs of trouble caught Harry completely by surprise. Catherine seemed to be attuned to something stirring, and she tugged at his sleeve just as the Falcons Beater hit a Bludger at the opposing Seeker, who had caught the Snitch enough seconds before that it could not be seen as an unfortunate accident.

"We should leave," she said, her voice unusually tight.

Harry wasn't sure what she was talking about, or what had her so worried, but he recognized a kind of fear in her eyes he'd not seen since the night walk in Godric's Hollow that had ended in a man murdering his wife.

Before he could ask what was wrong, fans from around the stands began to argue, then fight, then brawl. It was essentially a full-scale riot brewing all around them, and Harry wasn't sure what to do except draw his wand and try to shield Catherine, holding on to her tightly so they weren't separated. He heard screams and explosions down the stands, and he felt his heart pounding ferociously. Even if they made it out of the stands, which seemed more and more unlikely by the moment, there would surely be a rush on the stand where his broom was, and he would be unable to get her home from the hooliganism without his Firebolt.

Catherine had her wand out as well, and she was making room for a couple with young, crying children to go past. The family didn't pause to thank her, and Catherine didn't seem to care, scanning the crowd, probably for more people who needed to get out for similar reasons. Harry was more interested in getting her out of there safely, before their parents came looking for them. This was the sort of thing that would surely draw his father to tell Uncle Sirius, and if his father wasn't sitting at the wireless listening to the match, Harry knew nothing.

The furthest stand from them was actually on fire, and he realized with a sinking feeling that it wasn't empty. In fact, it was fully likely there were people in the center of the stand who would not be able to get out before the flames could be put out, as stewards were flying above, trying to do. Many people were contributing to try to extinguish the flames, but the shrieks of children told Harry freezing charms and water weren't going to be enough for everyone.

Then the stand exploded, and Catherine shrieked, startled. Harry grabbed her wrist and decided he didn't care about whether he could fly her home yet. He was getting her out of the stands. Worst case scenario, their parents would be coming for them. Despite her protests and the large mass of people trying to get out, Harry managed to pull her through the throng and out to the ticket booths, checking her over when they had enough room, just to be certain she was uninjured.

"You're alright?" he asked, people jostling him as he searched for wounds or burns or bruises.

"A bit banged up," she said, moving closer to let people move by them. "I'll be fine. Harry, those people…"

They shivered and he hugged her close, waiting for things to calm down a bit before he even thought about getting his broom. He was content to hold on to her on solid ground.

/-/

Ryana was spending the summer with Luna, which was a pleasant if surreal change from her usual experiences. Luna's father was a curious man, with strange hours and habits, and problematic eating preferences. If Luna noticed, she gave no sign, and so Ryana tried very hard not to let it show that she found anything unusual about the matter.

"I'm sorry it's not a manor," Luna said casually one afternoon as the girls went about making dinner for three, Luna teaching Ryana a strange recipe with prunes. "But I think the house has character, still."

"I don't usually live in a manor," Ryana said with a nervous laugh. "Kitty's world is as foreign to me as it is to you."

The two girls laughed as they tried to mash the prunes. It wasn't the easiest of things, and Ryana felt it was the sort of thing her mother wouldn't have appreciated watching her do, the sort of thing Catherine would have probably thought beneath her and given up after fifteen minutes of hard work.

When they had the dish cooking, Luna and Ryana sat on the floor and waited for the timer to go off, and they shared a bowl of ice cream. Ryana couldn't help feeling she was experiencing one of the better parts of life that Catherine would never truly experience, and that made her feel less small for once.

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Harry and Catherine were still standing in a thinning crowd, waiting for the all-clear to gather transportation, when their fathers arrived, so much fear in their eyes they couldn't even look a little bit angry.

"We're fine, Daddy," Catherine said, wrapping her arms around her father's neck. "We were just waiting to get Harry's broom. We were out of the stands very quickly."

"Don't you do this to me again," her father said, hugging her tightly, and Harry had to look away, feeling like he'd intruded on something private. "And please don't lie to me. Severus told me you were burned."

"What?" Harry snapped. "Where? You told me you were fine!"

Catherine didn't even bother looking sheepish as she said, "It's really nothing. It's a small burn on my calf. I'm pretty sure it's a contact burn from rubbing my leg on a stand trying to get out. You're all overreacting."

Harry held his breath, expecting Uncle Sirius to be furious to be told that he was overreacting about his daughter's safety, but it seemed Harry's godfather was just too relieved they were alright. He pressed his face into her hair and hugged her.

"Padfoot," Harry's father said gently, "I'll stick around, get Harry's broom. Can you get them home? You can take Harry to London if you'd like. I'll pick him up when I've got the broom."

Uncle Sirius nodded, holding out his arm for Harry to take before conducting Side-Along Apparition to Grimmauld Place.

/-/

Once her father checked and treated her burn, he quite graciously left her alone with Harry while they waited for Uncle James to return. Catherine sat on Harry's lap, brushing her fingers on his chin and jaw, trying to coax him into looking at her. She knew he was upset she'd not told him about the burn, but to her it seemed such a silly thing.

"I didn't want to worry you over nothing," she finally said when he wouldn't look at her no matter what she tried. "And really, Harry, it's nothing at all. I wish you wouldn't be cross with me."

He sighed, not looking at her, but turning his head slightly to touch her forehead with his. She liked to feel the warmth of him so close.

"I could never stay cross with you even if I wanted to," he said, so softly it was difficult to hear him. "I just wish you didn't feel like you had to keep things from me, Cat. I will never look at you differently for anything you could tell me, and it's my right to worry about you. Why do you think the contract bond allows Snape to tell if you're injured? That kind of bond…. You're the most precious thing in the world to me."

Her body seemed to buzz with excitement when he said this, and her torso felt as though it would float away if it weren't connected with the rest of her.

"What, more precious than your Firebolt?" she teased, unable to think of anything sweet to say back. It just wasn't her way.

He snorted, smirking, and then he kissed her as though this were an answer, but she supposed it was enough of an answer.

/-/

Lily was waiting at Godric's Hollow, pacing the kitchen floor as she waited for her son and husband to return, completely dead set on scolding Harry within an inch of his life. She'd thought he'd been in his room, and it was only when James yelped in panic while listening to the wireless of the Falcons match that she began to worry. When James said he needed to get Sirius, and that the kids had gone to the match, she was ready to skin them both alive.

When Harry and James walked through the front door, however, and she rushed out with a mind to box their ears, she hesitated at the sight of Harry near tears, exhausted, and with smudges of soot by his left temple.

"Is Kitty alright?" Lily asked breathlessly, thinking the worst at the sight of Harry about to cry.

"She's fine," James said, glancing at their son, who hurried upstairs, likely to be sullen as teenagers so loved to do. "She's…. She got a contact burn from rubbing the stands trying to get out, and Severus told Sirius she had a burn and that was all we knew, but she'd not told Harry and he was quiet upset because she said she was fine. You know how it is."

Lily hummed, glancing toward the stairs, feeling a stab of pain for her son. But this was the way it would be if he was going to fall for someone like Catherine. Just as Lily had learned in being friends with Sirius that her husband's best friend required persistence and presence without too much pushing, Catherine didn't want Harry to worry or coddle her. No doubt she got enough of that from her father to last her a lifetime.

"Should I take him tea, do you think?" she mused, all thought of scolding him gone.

"Maybe later," James said, kissing the top of her head. "I think he needs a bit of time alone. He said on the way back, when we were alone, he asked if the children screaming in the exploding stand had died."

Lily hummed, hugging her husband and feeling her stomach drop. Essentially they had seen the war without actually having to live through it, and Harry was more sensitive than they sometimes gave him credit for. Especially after everything he'd gone through with Catherine, to see such a thing must have shaken him to his core. She decided to bring him tea before dinner, and ask if he was hungry. He'd probably feel more like talking then.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine have another shock, Draco and Lucius are at odds over Astoria, and Severus's ties to Catherine have proved their usefulness and peskiness once again.**

 **Review Prompt: As a tribute to us making it to 100, write a 100 word review. If you're stuck, work in the word "portmanteau," which is a fabulous word that's popped up everywhere in my life lately.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will we see other professors' perspective on the lovebirds? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: The perspectives we've already had are all the ones we'll have for this segment of the story. There will be different (some less, some more) perspectives in Part 3. So, no McGonagall, no Sprout, etc, except what they might say out loud to the gentlemen we do get perspectives from.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	102. Awareness

**A/N: Here's your regularly scheduled weekly update! Enjoy!**

 **-C**

Cora struggled not to giggle at Ginny, who was forced to stand in a pale gold dress at the front of the wedding. Her eldest brother, Bill, was marrying the French Triwizard champion, Fleur Delacour, who had been interning at Gringotts in the last year to improve her English. As a cousin, Cora was expected to be there, even though she would much rather have gone to see Catherine like Luna and Ryana were doing for the day. It was terribly unfair she didn't get to choose, especially as she knew Bill didn't care. But her father had told her Aunt Molly would be terribly upset if Cora weren't there, so Cora was wearing her best pale green robes, watching the ceremony lazily, tiredly.

It was beautiful, admittedly. Bill had always been the most handsome of Cora's cousins, and no one could deny Fleur was disgustingly beautiful.

As the couple were bonded for life, the tent was converted into a dance and reception area, and Cora spotted Neville searching the crowd for a familiar and friendly face. Cora waved, crossing to him, eager to have someone she could talk to.

"Cora," he said, almost sighing in relief as he kissed her hand for the sake of propriety in his station. "Hermione was supposed to come with us, but she's got a head cold. And I can't seem to find Ron."

"He's ushering," Cora said with a shrug, gesturing toward the back. "So, I'm sure he's somewhere over there. I'm hiding from my baby sister. Rhea's got a dispensation not to be here. An internship with Professor Lupin in Germany."

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "How's her dueling coming along?"

"She can almost beat everyone we know now," Cora said, smiling at Rhea's quiet dominance. "Except for Kitty and Harry, of course. But neither of them wants to go into the field, so I guess that's good for her odds. No telling what comes out of Durmstrang, of course, but that's how it goes."

Neville hummed, waving at what she supposed was Ron. Then he said, "Speaking of Kitty and Harry, did you know they were at the Falmouth match with the riot?"

"Jason did say something about it. But I presume they're okay, because he would have said if they weren't."

"Yeah," Neville said as Ron stood with them. "Proud of Bill?" Neville said, turning to Ron with a grin.

"I'd be more proud if Mum would stop asking us when the next one is getting married," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking over at the twins, who were flirting with some of Fleur's old classmates. "And Fred's been right awful about it, said when he gets married, guests could show up naked or in fancy dress for all he cares."

Cora would have coughed in surprise, except it was Fred, and she couldn't imagine Fred doing it any other way. She'd only have been surprised if it were Percy, who was trying to chat up some Ministry people who'd come out of respect for Uncle Arthur.

/-/

Jason crept down the stairs to get himself a late night snack, but he paused on the third stair from the bottom, hearing his father's voice, low. He wondered who his father would be talking to at this time of night, and he paused, surprised to hear Aunt Lily answer. Unable to satiate his curiosity, Jason crept closer, pressing his ear to the stairwell.

"But they're not children anymore," Aunt Lily said softly. "And Kitty's going to be learning these things in your course this year. It's only a couple of years before Jason and Caro are sitting in that seat, and how are you going to feel if they're learning it from a textbook, and not from their father, who was there?"

"This isn't the world I wanted them to see," Jason heard his father saying. There was a frustrated sigh. "They know the basics. I never wanted to have to tell them about…."

"Yeah. But Sirius, do you tell the other students these stories?"

"Some of them."

"Then tell your children. Tell them as much as you think they can handle. Everything, maybe. Maybe not. Caro's still quite young. But for Merlin's sake, tell them something. I think we're past the point of sheltering them now, don't you?"

/-/

Caroline sat down with her brother and sister in the sitting room, watching her father pace, feeling slightly concerned. She glanced at Catherine, who looked equally puzzled, and then to Jason, who looked as unreadable as usual. Eventually, their father stopped and said, "Soon…soon Kitty is going to begin taking my NEWT level course, and she's going to be reading about the war in greater detail, so much deeper than anything I've taught you about, either in his house or at Hogwarts."

He paused in front of the fireplace and looked with a mournful expression at the carpet.

"The textbook I assign is the most reasonable existing," he said, still not looking at them, "but there are things in it, things about me and Aunt Lily and…and Uncle Rabastan and Uncle Remus and…and Professor Snape…. The things we did during the war, the things we had to do…"

Caroline watched her father pinch the bridge of his nose and she was burning with curiosity. What could upset her father so profoundly?

"I was about your age when I resolved to join the war effort," he said, looking at Kitty with remarkably solemn and melancholy eyes. "Muggles were being slaughtered, Muggle-borns, blood traitors…. My cousin was insane, Bellatrix. Aunt Narcissa's eldest sister. Torture was her favorite pastime. I told you all how she used your mother's vulnerability to bait and lure me back into the family, into a kind of double-agent effort." The children all nodded, and he began to pace again, more rapidly this time.

"One of my friends, Caradoc Dearborn," he said, pulling slightly at his hair, "was captured. He was spying, looking for artefacts, asking dangerous questions in dangerous places. He was captured and brought in, and I was made to torture him, and then kill him."

Caroline shivered, feeling a kind of turning in her stomach. She couldn't imagine any circumstances where she would be able to kill a friend, even Aeson, no matter what the stakes. This disturbed her, because she had always thought she could do anything her father could do. She was chilled to learn he'd killed a friend.

"I had to burn my brother's body and pretend to have killed him to hide from the Dark Lord how Regulus had actually died destroying bits of the Dark Lord's soul."

"Daddy?" Catherine said in an uncharacteristically small voice. He nodded for her to continue, but didn't meet her gaze. "Daddy, why do you call him that?"

"What?"

"The Dark Lord," she said, shrugging. "Aunt Dorcas calls him Lord Voldemort, and her sister-in-law calls him You-Know-Who."

Their father's eyes closed and he absently touched his left forearm.

"I…. It wasn't safe in the inner circle to call him anything else. Se-Snape calls him the same. It is a safety mechanism. There…there is something I should show you."

If Caroline didn't know any better, she would have said he was about to cry.

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Draco was holing himself up in his room to avoid his father, and he had a steady stream in and out of his window of letters, from Astoria, from Blaise, from Brontes when they weren't at events with the Lestranges. Normally he would have written to Catherine as well, but he wasn't sure she'd forgiven him yet for the whole situation in the corridor. He wasn't sure he forgave himself, either, for falling for the petty, childish whims of Aeson to prove himself against Caroline. He barely vetted the plan before enacting it, and Draco knew, looking back, had he truly considered the plan with a cool head, he would never have done it.

He rested his head against the window frame, hearing the distinctive footfalls of his mother's gait outside his bedroom door. She likely worried about him, but there was nothing for her to be concerned with. Since he'd expressed his desire to court Astoria when she was old enough, she'd no doubt asked Aunt Delia about Astoria, and no doubt the two women had established enough information for his mother to approve of the match. There was nothing objectionable about Astoria, apart from her regrettably obnoxious sister, but that could be forgiven. His mother hadn't had the best of luck when it came to sisters, either.

His mother passed by twice more before Draco could see an owl on the edge of the tree line, coming toward him. He could not recognize the bird until it came much closer, and he held his breath as he waited. Unfortunately, he sighed with disappointment to see it was Blaise's bird, not his come back from Astoria. He closed his eyes as he waited for the owl to enter his open window.

/-/

Sirius felt nauseous as he rolled up his sleeve, and felt if he opened his eyes they would see his distress at showing them the Dark Mark.

"It's so much lighter than Professor Snape's," Catherine said thoughtfully. "But maybe that's just because his skin's so much lighter."

His eyes snapped open, and she must have seen the question in them, because she quickly said, "When we're working alone, he sometimes rolls his sleeves up to deal with some of the more…unstable ingredients. I think he assumed I'd seen yours, so it wasn't such a big deal."

Sirius nodded, thinking that maybe he should have a word with Severus, but then, technically they were engaged, so it wasn't so out of line for Catherine to see Severus's Dark Mark. For many years, Cara was the only person who saw his.

"He could call us with it," Sirius said softly. "Summon us. It was…excruciating. A reminder of his power over you, a power you could never rid yourself, even by removing the arm. It's binding Dark Magic, something there's no known way to remove."

He closed his eyes again, thinking back through the years, thinking over his time with the Death Eaters, all the things he had to do.

"I killed a lot of people," he said softly. "You'll see numbers in your textbooks, and when students ask all I say is, it was more. I…. Please don't ask."

He knew the number. Eighty-three. He didn't know all their names, but he still recalled the eyes of every single victim, the faces of many, and in some cases even their last words, their pleas. Some were Muggles, Muggle-borns, resistance fighters, friends, and even Death Eaters when he could get away with it and not be caught.

/-/

Cara breathed in the steam off her tea, waiting impatiently for her children and husband to come out from the sitting room. She knew they would never look at their father the same after this talk, but it was so important. She and Lily had been pressuring him to do it off and on since Catherine's marriage contract was drawn up, but once the riot at the Quidditch match happened, Sirius could no longer ignore his children were growing up quickly.

She wanted to preserve them as young children forever as well, but for different reasons. She didn't mind how her children looked at her, but as children at worst they were mischievous. Now they were in the world, she worried about the kind of trouble they got themselves into. Caroline for her aggressive need to be the best, Jason because he wanted so much to please everyone at once, and Catherine because she seemed to constantly be looking for another high to stretch her from where she stood. Caroline and Jason would likely find themselves in typical trouble, but even now Catherine found herself in extraordinary sorts of trouble, and Severus had expressed privately to Cara that he was concerned she might abuse her knowledge of potions for this need for a new high, should she not have a strong positive influence.

Harry was a positive influence by and large, but Cara wondered how strong he really was. The more trouble they found themselves in, the more he melted to Catherine's will, and the less he was willing to refuse her.

And Cara closed her eyes and imagined Catherine frozen at six weeks, a small and strange thing in her father's loving and worshipful arms. Everything had seemed simple and possible then.

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When Caroline and Jason left the room, Catherine lingered at the door, watching her father cross to the window, his eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears as he looked down at the street below. She held her breath as she waited for him to break down, but he seemed to sense she was still there, watching him, and his pride wouldn't let him. Catherine crossed to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, amazed at how small her hand looked on the dark fabric of his jacket, smooth and soft and lightweight, a mark of its great expense.

"Daddy?" she said, watching his face closely as he closed his eyes and turned his head back to her, acknowledging her in this way. He didn't want her to see his tears, so she didn't mention them. "Thank you."

"What for, Kitty-Cat?" he whispered, pulling her closer, hugging her loosely, with his strong arm wrapping around her waist. Catherine rested her head against his chest. She could smell his cigarettes and his woodsy, spicy soap.

"For fighting for me," she said, closing her eyes as she felt them prickling from the wave of solemnity striking her at those words. "For doing the right thing and…and for not dying. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She sniffled as softly as possible, and he hugged her tighter, pressing a kiss to her hair. He rested his nose against her locks and said, "You don't…don't see me differently, knowing the things I've done?"

"I've always known," she said quietly, "that you'd do anything for us. Knowing for sure…it only makes me love you more."

He was trembling, but so was she, so she said nothing of it as she let him cling to her, pressing a string of kisses in her hair, unable to string together a verbal response.

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Fabian sat down with his wife after the children went out to play something in the back garden. It was strange. They really weren't children anymore, or wouldn't be for long. Rhea was practically a young woman, much like her mother was when Fabian fell in love. Of course, it took Fabian far too long to propose, to even express his feelings, but times were different then. The war either sped things up or put them off. Now…now there was nothing between young lovers and marriage. How long until Rhea was someone's wife? She might already be someone's sweetheart.

"Dove," he said, lacing his fingers in Dorcas's, feeling the heat of her hand and its pleasant weight and texture. "What are we going to do when they leave?"

"What do you mean?" she said, frowning up at him. "What we do every September. It's not like we're going off on a cruise or something."

He smiled sadly, shook his head, and said, "No, not when they leave for school. I mean, when they graduate. When they move out, strike out on their own. When they…."

His voice cracked and he looked down at their intertwined hands. Dorcas seemed to understand, and she kissed his cheek lovingly.

"They'll always need us, darling. If nothing else, Damon's going to need the moral support when he eventually marries Caroline Black, and Ourania will probably never stop asking for money and sweets."

He smiled. She was only half joking, but it was a comfort to think they'd need him for something, even if not what he would have hoped.

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Catherine sat in her room, feeling a chill as she thought of all the blood on her father's hands, and she wondered if she could do half the things he'd done. Even her mother had killed someone, albeit someone who was hurting her father. Catherine closed her eyes and thought if someone was hurting Harry, she wouldn't hesitate. Probably her first instinct wouldn't be to kill them, but she would want to hurt them. She'd seen red when Draco attacked Harry, even considering what Harry had accidently done to Draco.

Her head was spinning and she pulled out her mirror, then putting it away and pulling out parchment to respond to a letter. She'd already agreed with Harry they were going to throw a party, with a very small and elite guest list, when they got back to school. She'd not told him about the complete list, which she'd been compiling, but she knew without thinking Padma Patil would have to be on the list.

In fact, Padma's name was one of the first names she wrote down when she started making up the list, and now she wrote Padma's name at the top of the letter, in smooth, slow writing, recalling how Padma's fingers had traced her neck toward the end of term. Catherine had lost track of when occasionally making out with Padma had gone from a way of paying Padma back for favors to just something she did whenever Padma could sneak her off for a minute or two without either of them getting caught, which was an increasingly often occurrence. Even responding to the letter and telling Padma there would be a party, with an exclusive guest list, and that Padma was on the list, Catherine was thinking of how Padma would manage to get her alone at the party, without anyone seeing them.

At the bottom of the letter, Catherine wrote,

 _Harry says a threesome would be fine if I'd like, so maybe sometime we could try that. Let me know if you've got ideas. I really don't know what it would entail, but I look forward to it._

Catherine was quivering with excitement she couldn't comprehend within her own thoughts as she signed the letter and sealed it off. She looked forward to it, but a tiny part of her was also afraid of the unknown of the situation, and the sensation of giving up control. It was frightening, and exhilarating, and the sheer combination was like a drug more addictive than her cigarettes.

 **A/N: So, Sirius has bared his soul for his children, the reality of growing up is hitting the parents, and Catherine's search for a new high pulls her deeper.**

 **Review Prompt: How much more relaxed do you think Sirius will be how Catherine and he have reached a kind of understanding?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Are we going to learn more about Draco's view? Does he regret being the indirect cause of the girl's death? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: We've learned more or less what we're going to directly from Draco. He definitely does regret it, but not as much because someone died, but more because of the echoes of what happened to Catherine, and how raw that still is in everyone's memories. He's going to take a different approach because of this, but he's not as broody or introspective as Harry can be in the books, and we won't get massive amounts of him measuring his guilt.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	103. Anticipation

**A/N: Here's your bonus! Everybody say thank you to** _ **AvinaNox**_ **!**

 **-C**

Ginny was sitting with Ron at the breakfast table after all the guests had gone, after the glitter of the wedding was over and they were once again the only people for their mother to dote on. Ryana and Luna were due after lunch for a pickup game of Quidditch, though, and Ginny had little doubt leftover afters would be not-especially-gracefully pushed at the four of them, even though they'd all had quite enough of everything at the wedding reception the night before.

"Mail's here!" their mother cried, and she pulled letters from several laden owls, turning them over thoughtfully before saying, "Two for each."

Ron raised his eyebrows at Ginny, and the letters were dropped in front of them as Ron helped himself to more sausages.

"Harry," Ron said.

"Kitty," Ginny said with a smile, setting aside the Hogwarts letter to open and glance over the first few lines.

It was a party invite, mostly, and from the glance Ginny shared with her brother over the sausages, his was as well. They both quickly slipped the letters back into the envelopes and set them aside to read after lunch with friends, turning their attention to the Hogwarts letters.

"My OWLs were good," Ginny said, rubbing her eyebrow lazily. "Ron, can we share the History text?"

"Trust me," Ron said solemnly, "you're going to want your own."

"I wonder who got Head Boy and Girl," Ginny said, stretching her arms. "Hermione, probably."

"Dunno," Ron said, shrugging. "Harry will use the fellytone if he got it."

"Telephone."

"Whatever. He'll let us know, one way or another. Could be a Ravenclaw. This year is going to be hell, isn't it?"

Ginny just hummed, noticing her brother was looking remarkably pale. There was no reason he couldn't have a bit of fun his final year, but she did know seventh year was notoriously difficult, with work piled on to prepare them for life after school.

"What d'you want to do when you graduate?" she asked as casually as possible.

"Dunno," Ron said, shrugging. "I was thinking of going into business with the twins. They're opening the Hogsmeade branch, you know, and Harry said they were scoping out the possibility of having a small shop put in Godric's Hollow."

"Hogsmeade?" she asked, buttering her toast. "Why would they want to go into competition with Zonko's?"

"They've bought Zonko's out. They're the premiere wizarding joke company now. And what with the mail-in orders, which is still their biggest money from September to June, they're very busy."

Ginny hummed, glancing to their mother, who was entering the room, and Ginny quickly began a logistical conversation with her mother about when they were going to Diagon Alley for the school shopping. They couldn't be sure how their mother would react to Ron working for or with the twins, but as she hadn't been thrilled with the twins when they embarked down their now very lucrative career path, Ginny thought it best not to drop that bomb in person, and certainly not right now.

/-/

Padma opened the letter from Catherine before the one from Hogwarts, going up to her room and ignoring the way her sister's eyes followed her as she went. She smirked at the invitation to the party Harry and Catherine were throwing, and the suggestion Harry had all but agreed to a threesome. But Padma had to lay groundwork before a threesome could be done properly, before Harry could be brought truly under her thumb.

The party would be the perfect backdrop, if she could play it right. Location would be critical, because Padma wasn't sure she'd be able to get Catherine alone long enough to solidify the lesson she was going to teach her, but Padma would find a way. And Catherine would certainly be motivated to find a way. And Harry, Harry wouldn't even notice, he'd be so busy keeping all the guests happy and talking to friends, he wouldn't worry about losing Catherine for fifteen minutes or so. After all, a party was a party, exclusive or otherwise.

Padma wrote a letter back, and said she had a surprise for Catherine at the party, and told her not to wear too much lipstick. Catherine would take that as a cue not to wear any, as she was now used to doing when Padma called in favors. This time more than ever.

/-/

Draco felt the heaviness of his letter and his heart began to beat faster, not expecting this at all. He had assumed, because of his behavior at the end of the previous year, he was not going to get the Head Boy badge. And yet there it was, falling out of the envelope and into his hand. His father set down his fork at the sight of it, and his mother nearly dropped her tea. Perhaps they had given up hope, as well.

"I wonder who got Head Girl," his mother said in a forced casual voice.

"Probably Hermione Granger," Draco said, turning over the badge. "It really shouldn't be anyone else. That's good, though. I work well with her."

His father tensed as he picked up his fork again, and Draco ignored it. His father was a relic from another era, and his prejudices were predictable as they were pathetic. Hermione would likely prove to be one of the most powerful, productive, and forward-thinking people of their generation, and if Draco was a blip on the radar of history, he would be very lucky.

Draco was about to say that he should write to Catherine, but he wasn't certain she would be terribly pleased for him at the moment. Perhaps she'd wanted Harry to get the badge, and Draco didn't want to disappoint her after what he'd done. She was likely still mad at him. He was still mad at himself.

"I suppose you'll want to send some letters, tell your friends the news," his mother said, a bit breathlessly. "I hope you don't mind if I tell the family?" He shook his head. The Lestranges, the Blacks, even Aunt Andromeda. If Catherine was pleased for him, she'd let him know, either by letter or when she saw him next. If she wasn't, he wouldn't be bothering her with the news. "And Lucius, we really ought to have a celebration. Nothing big, mind, but…at least let's have cake or something."

"Whatever you think," his father said tightly.

Draco felt suffocated. They were supposed to be pleased with him, supposed to be happy for him, but he knew the internal politics of their marriage were stifling their ability to be civil and respect his accomplishments for what they were.

Excusing himself, Draco went up to his room and began lazily drafting letters to Blaise and Astoria. But he couldn't get over the sense he was leaving someone out by not writing to Catherine, and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

As Head Boy, he would have the opportunity to crack down, even on Prefects, or show lenience. Without actively thinking it, in that very moment, Draco knew that he would bend over backwards to be as lenient as possible to his cousin, more so than his whole life to this point, even if it meant turning a blind eye to murder. Anything to earn back her trust.

/-/

Neville sat with Harry in the Potter's front yard while their parents set out tea in the kitchen.

"I don't know," Harry was saying, rubbing his knee absently. "Cat seems…different, in a way. I know she's always stretching herself in ways that…would terrify most people, but there's something she's not being totally honest with me about."

"You've only really got two options," Neville said, although he didn't voice those options. Harry knew, as well as Neville, he either had to confront her and risk angering her – and she could be so fickle and vindictive when it suited her – or he had to try to bite his tongue and keep an eye out for anything seriously dangerous, something truly damaging to her.

"She's smart, Harry," Neville finally said. "She also can't stand to do things alone. You'll be included, when she's ready."

"I know," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's kind of what I'm afraid of."

Neville nodded. He had a similar problem to Harry, although usually he was kept well out of it. The problem was, it was nearly impossible to tell Catherine no, and Neville knew Harry really desperately never wanted to have to.

/-/

Catherine began packing for school with a mind to wowing in her time out of uniform, and she ran her hands over a dress she was thinking of bringing specifically for the party. It was soft, sort of a blend of cotton and silk in texture, a material harvested from a magical worm in Asia somewhere. Catherine didn't care much about the logistics, only that it was one of her softest, most expensive dresses – a gift from George Weasley, actually. He told her he saw the shade of green and thought it would look perfect on her skin. She teased him that he was just thinking of how much skin would be showing in the backless, rather short dress, but he just winked instead of confirming or denying.

With a smirk, Catherine carefully packed it.

/-/

Jason found his mother packing up some of Caroline's things while she was up playing wizard's chess against herself instead of being responsible.

"Mum?" he said, resting his head on the doorframe.

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever…. I mean, are there…. Do you have any regrets about things from the war?"

His mother's neck tightened and she looked up at him thoughtfully, watching his face, searching it as if she could find some kind of answer to suit the conversation.

"You look just like your father did when he was young, you know," she said with a kind of sad smile. She kissed his cheek. "I don't believe in regrets, Jason. It doesn't do well to dwell on the past."

/-/

Draco opened the letter with nervous hands, recognizing Catherine's handwriting straight away. He'd gone upstairs to open it, although he wasn't entirely sure why. Even if there were things in it his parents could see, they weren't apt to look over his shoulder while he was reading.

She congratulated him, not tersely as he expected, but with her usual laissez-faire casual air, as though nothing actually mattered in the world. Perhaps to her there wasn't anything with real weight. He'd often thought she was like a wisp of smoke, like she could just seep through his hands if he tried to close them. And the thing most attractive to him about Astoria was how this was exactly the opposite of her.

He read on to see she was talking lazily about her summer, about how she'd been surprised not to hear from him directly, but she thought perhaps he had been vainly hoping to surprise her. Of course, she was teasing and taunting him with those words, knowing full well why he hadn't written her all summer. Then she said she hoped he wouldn't see it in his new duties to interfere.

Ah, there it was, he thought bitterly, letting his eyes run over the plans she and Harry had made for a party at the start of the year, somewhere in Hogsmeade – she didn't say where – and she hoped he wouldn't take it upon himself to spoil things.

Catherine was putting him on the spot, testing his loyalty and contrition, and he was expected to tell her that everything was fine, that he was going to look the other way and not to worry about a thing. He knew if she was caught, however, and he was found to have known, it wasn't his badge he would have to worry about so much as her father's reaction. The last thing he wanted was to have that much anger and power hating him. And he wasn't a Potter, or a godson.

Draco paced his room several times over, feeling his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, hearing it in his ears. If he wrote back and told her he wasn't going to hide her secrets, if he wrote to her father or to Professor Dumbledore…. Would she get in trouble? It wasn't likely, but it might drive her to extremes to get what she wanted rearranged, and she might not tell him. He knew he wasn't invited either way, but if he knew something about the party, he might be able to be sure she was safe, just in case.

And if he wrote her back and said everything was fine, that he was turning a blind eye, she might think him weak. She might walk all over him in future, the way she walked over everyone in her life, her father included. Everyone except for Snape.

Draco sank into the chair of his writing desk at pressed the heels of his palms into his temples, trying to think of what to say. He could begin the letter so easily in his mind, the address, the pleasantries, the comments about how he'd known his mother would want to tell the family, and he assumed it would include her. No secrets intended. Good to know she'd had a pleasant if a bit dull summer. No mention needed, of course, about how he knew that she and Harry had been present for the riot at the beginning of the summer. Never mind knowing trouble seemed to follow her like she was somehow lighting a blaze and lazily singeing things in her path as she walked by.

The question was, where to go from there? Mention the party, of course, something benign about the when or the where. But what would he say about his approval? Mouth shut, or no secrets?

/-/

Aeson had been annoyed to have his father chastise him upon arrival home, but he was even more frustrated when he learned Draco had been made Head Boy while everyone was still treating Aeson like a pariah.

He had spent much of his holiday alone, but he was surprised when his brother sat beside him in the garden wall, staring with him at the stupid water feature their mother had put in while they were doing exams.

"You shouldn't be so upset with Draco, you know," Brontes said softly.

"He's been rewarded."

"Not for this," Brontes said sternly. "He's been rewarded for a culmination of behavior and accomplishment over the whole of his time at Hogwarts. Just as when Dumbledore and Snape sit down to choose Slytherin Prefects in your fourth year, getting ready for the coming year, they'll think about your whole previous four years, not just whatever happened right before the decision."

For the first time since hearing about Draco's new badge, Aeson's anger softened. He looked at his brother, trying to decide what to say to him, but Brontes was already standing and walking away, deeper into the garden.

/-/

Hermione could tell from Neville's letter, he was nervous about something, but she told herself whatever it was, she would just accept the plausible deniability. No point getting worked up over the schemes of Harry and Catherine, nor the way they always seemed to drag everyone else into them. If it was dangerous, Harry wouldn't let Catherine do it without a backup plan. If it wasn't, someone else could bust them. Head Girl didn't mean taking down every miscreant.

Besides, they weren't likely to do whatever it was right under her nose. They were courteous about that sort of thing.

"Is that from Neville?" her mother asked brightly. "He's a very nice boy, isn't he?"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione said, reading over it to see if there was anything that required a quick reply, or if she could just draft one in the morning.

"And you said his family was good. I think I recall his father being very well-mannered. Is he planning on going into something…? Well, what is he going into?"

Hermione smiled, realizing that her mother stopped speaking because she wasn't sure what kind of careers were available for wizards and she didn't want to draw unfair conclusions because of the Muggle world.

"Research probably, maybe teaching someday," Hermione said, folding the letter and setting it aside. "He's really into Herbology."

"Plants?"

"Hmm. He's brilliant at rare plants, even ones he's not seen. A very well-ordered mind, and there's less pressure with plants than with certain areas of study. Potions, for example. He's not too keen on Potions."

Hermione smiled to herself about Neville's anxiety with Professor Snape.

/-/

Astoria wanted to write her congratulations for Draco, but everything she wrote down seemed cold, impersonal, like something her mother would write to someone accepting or declining an invitation for some kind of luncheon. And every time she tried to think through how to make it warmer, more personal, it seemed wildly inappropriate for her to send to someone she was not yet courting. If her father were to see such a letter….

No, she couldn't go down that route. And yet, every other letter she began to draft came up as a kind of miniature disaster. So instead, she decided she would wait a little while, and if a good reply did not occur to her, she would avail herself of an opportunity to congratulate him when she saw him in person, as they would be meeting on the train. She had her own Prefect badge to be a little bit proud of, but she didn't feel like telling him by letter, either. Somehow, next to his Head Boy badge, her own accomplishment seemed small.

September could not come quickly enough, but Astoria was an infinitely patient young woman.

 **A/N: So, Draco and Hermione are Heads, Catherine and Harry's party plans move forward, and Padma marks her calendar.**

 **Review Prompt: Of all the siblings various characters have, which would you feel most privileged to have as a sibling? I'm torn between Brontes or Jason. They're both supportive and wise beyond their years (probably because their siblings tend toward irresponsible and mildly insane).**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Technically, we're out of questions, but I've been poked at about who our antagonist is.**

 **A: In case you were still wondering, YES, it's Padma. She's our antagonist. I will also say the main antagonist for Part 3 is a "good guy" in Part 2. That was sooooo much fun to do. I'm past the halfway point in writing it, and shit's getting serious.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	104. A Length of Rope

**A/N: Here's your regular weekly update! Enjoy, if you can. I will say, this chapter is the beginning of…dubcon sexual arrangements, which is a theme that will continue throughout parts 2 and 3. So, if that is something that bothers you, be warned.**

 **-C**

Colin was nervous as he was let into the Shrieking Shack by a grinning Catherine Black. He didn't know how she got in, and he didn't particularly want to. That was how Colin usually felt about Catherine's antics. He crossed to where Rhea and Luna were sitting, stirring their drinks. Ron poured Colin a drink as well, although Colin hadn't asked for one.

"Not a big party," Colin said, frowning.

"Not a big venue," Rhea said softly, glancing around at the slightly decrepit building. "There's a second story, but I'm not sure it's sound."

Colin hummed, trying not to stare at Rhea. He'd been trying not to stare at her a lot lately, just as he'd been trying not to be angry with Zacharias Smith when he would openly flirt with Rhea. But at least Colin wasn't the only one angry about it – Catherine was always furious with Zacharias for what she called his "toying" with one of her friends.

Rhea had yet to make a comment on the matter one way or another, and Colin had a horrible, nagging fear she might actually like the attention from Smith.

"Where's Ginny?" Colin asked, changing the subject.

"Waiting for her latest boyfriend," Luna said, stirring her drink again. "I suppose you knew she's been seeing Blaise Zabini?"

Colin nodded.

Rhea leaned forward and he felt his pulse speed as she said, "Kitty didn't. She's a bit…furious. I mean, only a little bit. You know Kitty. But I think she feels a bit betrayed."

Colin really didn't know why Catherine would feel betrayed, and he couldn't find his tongue to ask the question. Instead, he took a healthy sip of his firewhiskey and nodded at Rhea. When he realized he was staring, he looked around the room again.

The one thing to be said for the party, really, was nobody was left out, even for the exclusive nature of it. Ryana Cotton had just entered, making the Hufflepuffs that much more represented, and between their friends they had many Ravenclaws and Gryffindors present. Even a Slytherin when Blaise arrived, no doubt with a friend or two. If Colin were a betting man, he'd put money on Blaise bringing Brontes Lestrange, as he couldn't very well bring along Draco. Just like Neville didn't bring Hermione.

Plausible deniability.

Colin took another long swig as Ryana sat down on his other side, asking Ron for a gin and tonic. He made the drink deftly getting quite a bit of practice from Gryffindor parties he and Neville and Harry had thrown for the past couple of years.

It struck Colin for the first time since school started less than a week ago, this was the last year for so many of their friends. Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione – even Draco and Blaise wouldn't be coming back next September. They'd be in the real world, getting jobs or living independently wealthy lives if they were lucky. And Catherine and Ginny, dating older guys, would be alone at Hogwarts most of the year, maybe with Hogsmeade visits to tide them over.

Then again, he thought, amused, Harry and Catherine had already proven that stone walls weren't going to cage them in if they wanted to do something, so Hogsmeade visits wouldn't necessarily be their only outlet.

/-/

Severus sat down in Sirius's quarters, accepting a glass of brandy without acknowledgement of it. Sirius had been subdued since he arrived back at Hogwarts, thoughtful, and Severus supposed it had something to do with his children.

"Cat wants to know if you'll come to the manor for Christmas," Sirius said lazily. "Not the whole holiday, naturally, but she'd like you at our Christmas party."

"She'll find a way to get me there regardless," Severus said lazily before taking a sip of his brandy. "Why fight it? Tell your wife to expect me."

Sirius nodded, looking at his own glass with thoughtful, solemn eyes. Severus sighed, admiring the color of the brandy before he said, "Your daughter is perfectly well. Cavorting tonight, I should think. She's certainly imbibed, and several of my students have…snuck out of the castle."

With a tiny look of amusement, Sirius nodded, obviously suspecting where she and Harry would hold such an event. He and his friends had done enough similar things during their school days. Severus would have been less than invited.

"As long as she seems alright," Sirius said with a small shrug, "no harm in letting them think we don't know. You'll not stay contracted to her forever. I prefer if we save our capital." Sirius took a long, steady drink of brandy and Severus raised his eyes as the glass was set down half as full as it had been when Sirius lifted it to his lips.

"You've told her something," Severus prompted.

With hesitation, Sirius explained what he'd told his children about his role in the war, about the things he'd done, the people he'd killed, the atrocities he'd committed to hold his cover.

"She says it doesn't change anything," Sirius said, obviously doubtful of Catherine's assurances.

Severus looked down at his own glass for a moment, thinking of the way Catherine had looked at him after he'd disposed of Karkaroff. Details, perhaps, were still a little secret he kept with Remus, but she knew. And her father certainly hadn't told her.

"Your daughter is remarkably perceptive," Severus said softly. "I think whether she thought of it consciously, Catherine knew the general idea of what you'd done. I think she has known for some time.

Sirius nodded before swallowing the rest of his brandy and pouring himself another glass. Severus supposed that this would take time.

/-/

Colin took his second drink and looked around the mostly-full room to where Ginny was sitting with Blaise Zabini. Ginny was talking animatedly, and Colin noticed Blaise's face was unreadable, but his eyes were completely glued on Ginny, and he seemed totally interested in what she was saying.

At this realization, Colin glanced at Rhea, who was listening to Luna's story about something happened when Ryana had stayed with her. Colin licked his lips, waiting for his opportunity to pay Rhea full attention. It would be weird to watch her while Luna was talking, but he was going to milk his propensity to look at her, anyway.

"Rhea," Ryana said, looking nervous as she glanced around for Catherine. "Zacharias was asking about you again. He's been…waiting until Kitty's not around to mention you."

Colin could feel a kind of hot churning in his stomach, and he glanced at Rhea, who was flushed slightly in the dim light of the Shack.

Did she want to have attention from Smith, or was she just flattered to have attention at all? Should Colin be paying her more obvious attention? Did she know she didn't have to settle for a worm like Smith to feel admired and appreciated?

He felt slightly panicked, but he wasn't sure what to do or say, which didn't help to calm him.

/-/

Brontes had entered the party with Blaise, invited as a courtesy to Blaise, but he found his place sitting with Jason and his friends. Brontes was listening to some of the excited discussion of what Christmas at Selwyn Manor would be like this year, but his eyes moved past Jason wrapping his arm around Natalie McDonald to where Caroline was sitting with her friends, gossiping. Brontes wasn't looking at his cousin, but her friend from Hufflepuff, the very quiet, very pretty Rose Zeller. Brontes held his breath, wondering if he ought to speak to her again, when Dennis Creevey accidentally splashed Cora Prewett with his drink, and chaos ensued at their little gathering of chairs and a broken sofa. Jimmy was trying to clean her, and Dennis slipped off, embarrassed, to get another drink for everyone.

Brontes sipped at his firewhiskey and glanced back over to Caroline's group, but Miss Zeller had shifted how she was sitting, and her face was no longer visible in the dim light of the Shack.

"I'm freezing," Cora said, obviously more embarrassed than she was upset, and Blaise took off his jacket and passed it to her without thinking, before Jimmy could get his fingers to the buttons of his sweater, and Cora flushed, still embarrassed.

Just a reflex of his training, but Jimmy was still furious, and Brontes turned his attention to his drink as Cora put on the jacket over her alcohol-soaked dress.

/-/

Padma got Catherine alone in a corner and showed her the small encapsulated powder, which Catherine examined with a careful eye in the dim light.

"It's a safe and stable ingredient list," Catherine said, showing her nerves slightly. "You said this is a half dose?"

"Wears off between an hour and three, depending on blood chemistry, and is a weaker version," Padma said, moving closer. "But if you like it, you could earn the rest of the dose."

Catherine glanced around the room, perhaps looking for Potter, perhaps checking to see if anyone was looking.

"How?" she asked.

"Decide if you like it first," Padma said, trying not to smile as she realized the hooks were in. "Then we'll talk payment for the full dose."

Catherine looked her in the eye, beautiful brown eyes just slightly wider than normal as she quickly slipped the capsule between her pretty, pale lips and swallowed with a sip of her firewhiskey.

/-/

Anthony Goldstein was pacing, annoyed, while Terry Boot opened his books for some late-night studying.

"I just can't figure why we weren't invited," Anthony said, frowning. "Padma was invited. Why not us?"

"Because Kitty Black doesn't stick her tongue down your throat, and has no interest in doing so," Terry said, frowning.

Well, there was that, Anthony thought, frowning. And Potter would probably have his privates if he even tried.

/-/

Catherine felt like she was soaring, like the room around her was somehow the same room, but better, sharper, pleasant. Everything seemed better, even Padma's hand sneaking up and down her back felt better than it had before.

"You like it?" Padma murmured.

"Yes," Catherine said eagerly, realizing the sounds of their voices were even better. "It's incredible."

"D'you want to earn the other half of it?"

"Yes," Catherine said, quickly, feeling her pulse jump. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more. Even her itching for a cigarette was dulled at the thought of the rest of the dose and what that would feel like.

"Then follow me upstairs, and be sure we're not seen. Wouldn't want to be followed."

Catherine glanced around the room as Padma went up the nearby stairs, and she knew that no one was watching. Even Harry wasn't looking for her, laughing at some joke Ron was telling him at the bar. Catherine slipped up the stairs, walking quickly, feeling her body propelling her forward after the sound of Padma softly humming.

It was a slightly dusty bedroom, with some broken furniture, but Catherine hardly noticed. She found herself breathless at the sight of Padma's naked body stretched out on the bed, which had been quickly scoured.

"You want the full dose of Bliss?" Padma said, smiling at her. Catherine nodded. "Take off your dress, darling."

It seemed like a wonderful idea, put them on equal footing. Catherine slipped out of her dress, following instructions as she stepped out of her shoes, stripped off her bra and panties. She came to the bed, where Padma was beckoning her. She sat on the bed, and moved closer as Padma's finger crooked, and then she kissed Padma when her lips came close enough.

It was explosive, better than every other intriguing time she'd kissed her. Closer to how things were with Harry, but with the sensation of delight Catherine was feeling, knowing she wasn't in control of the situation, that Padma was in charge. Catherine wasn't sure what it was, but she enjoyed this almost more than being with Harry. She wished he were with her.

But the thought flitted away quickly as Padma leaned in, whispered in her ear, "You earn the other half, darling, by making me climax."

Catherine blinked, puzzled, but Padma spread her legs out between them, and licked her lips, putting her hands on Catherine's head, gently pressing her down. Then Catherine realized what was expected of her.

When her face was between Padma's thighs, she flared her nostrils slightly and decided the scent was pleasant, like everything seemed pleasant at the moment, and when she darted out her tongue at a bead of moisture she decided the taste was pleasant as well. The soft moan Padma let out at the contact was even more pleasant, and Catherine thought how if she made Padma climax, she would get the other half, and that was the most pleasant thought of all as she began to lick hungrily.

/-/

Jason felt a strange shiver down his spine and he looked around for his people. Natalie was beside him, Caroline was across the room chatting with her friends, but he couldn't see Catherine anywhere. He spotted Harry over with Ron, and he kissed Natalie's cheek before crossing to him.

"Where's Kitty?" Jason said softly, glancing around to see if he'd just misplaced her.

"She's fine," Harry said, although he looked a bit anxious. "She's just stepped…elsewhere. For a few minutes. Probably wanted a cigarette or something."

Jason didn't believe him, but whatever she was up to, Harry seemed to know, and while he was nervous, he didn't seem afraid. He was more nervous Jason would find out or press than nervous anything was wrong with Catherine.

"You're sure she's okay?" Jason asked, lowering his voice so only Harry could hear him.

"I promise," Harry said, earnestly. "I'd never, ever, ever let something hurt her again. She's fine."

Jason wanted to believe, but he knew his sister. She managed to get trouble like most people gobbled up candy, and he was afraid her appetites for adventure and trouble would get her into corners she couldn't get out of.

/-/

Padma petted Catherine's silky hair as the high of climax wore off, before pulling Catherine in for a kiss.

"Good girl," she sighed, exhilarated from the sensation of Catherine's unpracticed but highly motivated mouth on her. "You've earned yourself a treat."

Catherine's eyes brightened as Padma passed her the rest of the dose. She was amused when Catherine opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out slightly in wait. Padma didn't bother hiding her amusement. The Bliss would take root in double in a moment, and if Catherine even noticed, she wouldn't care. She'd find the expression pleasant, just like everything else.

Padma placed her the capsule on Catherine's tongue, and sighed happily as Catherine's mouth closed seductively around her fingers.

Of course, this was the beginning. Padma was not naïve enough to think Catherine would be truly under thumb until Potter was under thumb, and it was important to move quickly or he would grow suspicious.

"Tell me, darling," Padma said, petting Catherine's smooth neck down, lazily caressing her bare and sumptuous breasts. "When do you think you could convince your boyfriend into that threesome?"

/-/

Aeson sat up straighter when Draco came in from his night of patrols. Aeson knew plenty of prefects were off tonight…no doubt at Catherine's party. Draco was covering for someone, although Aeson couldn't guess who. Maybe even Harry or Catherine. The thought angered Aeson, although he wouldn't admit to himself he was more upset he hadn't been invited than anything else, that Brontes was at this elite party and Aeson had not even been asked.

"You know what they're doing, don't you?" Aeson demanded.

Draco looked at him smoothly, with very little expression except a hint of coldness in his gray eyes, in the dim light of the common room.

"I think we don't know what you're talking about, do we?" Draco prompted. Aeson realized he was making a very big hint to drop it, not using the royal we.

Aeson cleared his throat, frowned, and looked down at the book open across his lap. He should have known better. If Draco was willing to take someone's patrol spot for the party, he knew and he was looking the other way. He wanted to ask Draco why, but Aeson knew he wouldn't get an answer.

/-/

Padma watched a newly dressed Catherine walk through the party as if walking on a cloud and get a new drink. Padma watched with some satisfaction as after several sips of her firewhiskey, Catherine pulled her boyfriend into a kiss, and a rather steamy one. He seemed initially startled, but he eventually responded with vigor, and the two were in their own world.

Putting a hand in her pocket, feeling the little vial of half-dose pills she'd made up, Padma felt complete satisfaction she'd wedged her foot into their world, and two was soon to become a regular three. But one step at a time, she reminded herself. This was a marathon, not a sprint, no matter how much her body wanted to simply find a way to get Catherine Black back upstairs and not let her go.

Training would be necessary, of course. Teaching, guidance. Catherine was terribly inexperienced in the things that mattered, and however much sexual experience she'd had with Potter had not prepared her adequately for Padma's purposes. But that could be amended, arranged. For the pair of them, if necessary.

Padma closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. All she could really smell was musk and sweat and alcohol, but she felt convinced that she could smell the sweet scent of Catherine's arousal from across the room, and she imagined it was just for her, a product of the Bliss and perhaps even spurred on from the taste she'd willingly taken for the rest of her dose.

In time, she would come to associate the taste with pleasure, with or without the Bliss, and Padma simply had to be patient. She was capable enough of that.

 **A/N: So, Padma has showed some of her hand, Colin has a thing for Rhea, and Sirius gives his daughter some rope – but is it enough rope to explore or enough rope to hang herself?**

 **Review Prompt: Is Aeson going to give in and take Draco's new line on his cousins, or will he estrange himself the way Adrasteia did?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is Padma trying to get revenge for some slight I'd find if I reread the story, or is she on a power trip? (danceegirl92, Pebbles7092, Asma20)**

 **A: A lot of you had the idea that Padma had some sort of grudge, some revenge trip. There's not a matter of revenge here. It's definitely more of an obsessive power trip. Think of how Lucius pointed out that all the wizarding world seems to turn around Sirius, and Catherine is turning out much the same way.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	105. Precipice

**A/N: This first weekly bonus is dedicated to the very edgy, very clever, very impatient Guest who just spammed my inbox. Cheers to your ingenuity!**

 **-C**

Adrasteia usually liked parties. She even usually liked Christmas parties, but this particular Christmas party at Selwyn Manor was causing her to feel cross and even bitter, and she didn't like that feeling.

Although Professor Snape was in attendance – perhaps as a guest of his fiancée, perhaps out of friendship and collegial feeling with Uncle Sirius – Catherine saw nothing inappropriate about hanging on to Harry Potter's arm, sneaking sips out of his champagne glass – for he was of age now, and she wasn't yet – and stealing kisses when they thought no one was looking, walking repeatedly under the mistletoe.

But everyone was looking, Adrasteia thought as she watched them grab another glass of champagne for Potter before sneaking out of the room. Everyone could see, and as far as Adrasteia could tell, no one was impressed. The problem was, she knew she couldn't convince anyone to get Catherine in trouble, particularly not her father or uncle, who seemed to adore her cousin far more than they adored her.

"A problem, Adra?" Brontes asked softly.

Her jaw twitched as she realized she'd been caught glaring after them, although they were long gone. She looked at her brother. Although he was younger than her by a couple of years, he'd eclipsed her in height by several inches, and he had her father's looks without the hardness and coldness their father had inherited from society and wartime.

"Nothing," Adrasteia said calmly, glancing over his shoulder to where Professor Snape and Uncle Sirius were having an earnest conversation about something. "Only Potter and Catherine have snuck out again."

"It's hardly sneaking in her home," Brontes said, sipping his punch without any sense of annoyance that he wasn't allowed champagne.

"Not hers, her family home. And anyway, it is if she's off with another boy while her fiancé is here."

Brontes actually snorted at her, something he was usually far too reserved and polite to do, and she fumed inwardly at the slight, whether or not he intended to offend her. He glanced over his shoulder briefly at the two men conversing before turning back.

"You know as well as I do why they're engaged, Adra," he said coolly. "It's only politicians who are stupid enough to believe she'd marry Professor Snape."

"It's a terrible match," Adrasteia said with a sniff.

"Actually," he said thoughtfully, looking at his glass, "if she weren't so obviously in love with Harry, I expect it would be an excellent match. Yes, there is an age difference, but in our world it is still done where appropriate. He's been a part of her life from the beginning, he's the person she spends the most time with apart from Harry, because of her extra studies, and they have a great deal in common. And considering the things the history books say and speculate about him, I think he'd be the healthy dose of dangerous she would want without actually hurting her."

Adrasteia looked at her brother, astonished he'd said so many words together. So astonished, in fact, she'd hardly listened to a word, and she just hummed an acknowledgement at having heard them before excusing herself to get more punch.

The bitterness had not faded, but had somehow intensified.

/-/

Astoria listened at her door, the shouting coming all the way up the hall as her parents argued on whether or not to grant Draco Malfoy the right to put in a contract without his father's approval. Yes, Draco was of age and did not need his father's signature to bind him to her, to court her, but the propriety of the matter was certainly tenuous if his father wasn't willing to sign off on things. Whatever people actually thought about Lucius Malfoy, he came from an infinitely respectable position of being from one of the oldest, most elite families.

Her mother seemed to be supportive of the whole endeavor, but her father was nervous about how it all would look. Contracting the younger daughter before the elder? Signing off without the head of the family's approval of the contract?

Astoria understand how it might appear. People might suppose Draco had gotten her pregnant, or they had been caught in an uncompromising position, however as her mother pointed out, he was a respectable boy with good prospects, and he wasn't saying he wanted to marry her straight away, but when she graduated.

"And she loves him, my dear," her mother said, softer. So soft Astoria almost couldn't be sure she'd heard it. "Isn't that enough?"

Holding her breath, Astoria gripped the doorknob, hoping.

/-/

Lily sipped her drink before getting Sirius alone, walking him out to the front hall.

"We're not busting her," Sirius said, wincing. "But it's very awkward, getting to hear from Severus every time my daughter is…."

He looked deeply uncomfortable, so Lily just laughed and patted his arm. She knew he was still struggling to get used to things, and there was no point teasing him like Severus was doing.

"How are the vampires?" he asked, obviously looking for a way to think about anything else. Lily walked with him, explaining the promising aspects and complications in the formula, and some of the thoughts Severus had given her.

"I thought you'd like to know," she said with a small smile, "the ideas weren't from his own research. They were things Kitty's been experimenting with. She's quite talented, Sirius. I'm half tempted to hire her, if I didn't know we didn't have the budget. She could do whatever she wanted in the world of Potions, except taking Sev's job before he's done with it."

"That's good to know," Sirius said, frowning. "If she doesn't throw it all away."

Lily nodded, sitting down in his study, her back stiffening as he locked and warded the door, something he never did. Not since the last rogue Death Eaters were caught or killed. Her stomach turned slightly as he poured them drink.

"We think she's experimenting with drugs," he said, sitting down. "Not like before. Heavier stuff. Only she doesn't have anything in her room, and doesn't have anything in her dormitory. Harry seems normal, and there's been no decline in her performance in classes or issues with her pocket money disappearing in droves."

"She could easily make them herself as needed," Lily said, frowning. "I could do it. It's…not hard, if you know what you want to make and what it's made of. Something Severus sensed?"

Sirius hummed, sipping his drink, opening the window, and looking around under it before lighting a cigarette. Lily wondered if Cara knew how dependent her husband still was on those things when it came to his fears about his daughter.

"I'll poke around," Lily said softy, "see if there's anything I can figure out. And I'll talk to Sev. He'll know more than either of us to start with. Try not to worry, Sirius."

Sooner ask the wind not to blow.

/-/

Remus turned over Harry's letter and smiled a bit to himself. So like James, in so many ways. It was comforting to know Harry thought enough of him to ask these kinds of questions, but he really ought to ask his father's advice. Such big questions were always better with parental guidance, but perhaps Harry worried his parents would talk with Catherine's parents. Those four always did seem to share practically everything.

He sighed, trying to decide how much he was willing to help Harry on the matter, and if perhaps he shouldn't tell one of the four, at the least. If he told anyone, it would have to be Cara. She would be the quiet one, the one able to keep a secret from the other three, and especially from her daughter. Always underestimated.

Remus pulled out a quill and began making a list of pros and cons, to be destroyed later, on whether he could or should help Harry. From there he would make a list of all the possible levels in which to help him, if he decided to help, and would have to decide what the best and most reasonable ways were.

Because although he didn't want to admit it to himself in the onset, Remus knew he would help Harry. It was the least he could do, knowing he'd done the same for James, again without Sirius's help. And in a weird way, he'd helped Sirius. Of course – circumstances were different then.

/-/

Severus felt, at times, he should never have agreed to contract to Catherine Black. It was a favor to old friends, of course, a favor to a colleague, a favor to his most promising pupil. That he knew when she was injured was a positive thing, especially with the girl's ability to find trouble.

On the other hand, that he knew when she was copulating with Lily's son was less than pleasant, and had he not been so adept at keeping a straight face, Sirius would probably have stormed upstairs in the middle of the Christmas party and Catherine would have regretted the connection as well.

Lily knew, of course. Lily seemed to know everything, and the look she gave him as he poured himself some punch spoke volumes.

"How are you holding up?" she teased.

Severus closed his eyes and breathed steadily and slowly through his nostrils.

"A ridiculous question, Lily," he said dryly. "It was necessary. It is necessary."

She hummed, but he knew she was amused. If they didn't cut it out soon, though, Severus was tempted to go and pull them apart himself, just for some peace.

/-/

Dorcas went to bed after a long Christmas, feeling time was slipping through her fingers more quickly than it ever had before. Perhaps it was seeing Rhea growing up so quickly, she mused, closing her eyes. Fabians fears about the children growing up and leaving them were starting to settle in her stomach, and Dorcas found she didn't like it.

/-/

Padma sat on the train, watching Catherine walk onto the platform with her hand in Potter's. Smiling to herself, Padma thought back to the letters she'd gotten from Catherine, already showing signs of eagerness and anxiousness to be getting back to where they'd left off, to get closer to the day they'd planned.

Potter had agreed to doing the threesome on Valentine's Day, in the Shrieking Shack, at night, with just the three of them. No party this time. Padma had checked her supply of Bliss, and was prepared for anything.

She'd met up alone with Catherine a few more times, each time making Catherine earn the full dose. Catherine no longer asked how to earn it, and the last time almost dropped to her knees before she'd even had the first half dose.

Very good starting signs.

Catherine had taken very well to restraints, and although she was slightly nervous about Padma going down on her the first time, she'd been on a full dose of Bliss at the time and ended the experience begging for it not to end. Padma was training her to part her legs with a simple tap on the thigh, and while Catherine wasn't quite there, she might be ready soon to know what Padma wanted of her without thinking.

That was the real key, to keep her from thinking too much about anything but sensation. Because Padma knew when things other than sensation crept in, Catherine's propriety, her pride, her feelings for Potter, they would just get in the way. But enhancing sensation and not giving Catherine time to think about anything except how good things felt, that was the way to train her. And no doubt, it would be the way to Potter, as well, Catherine's pleasure. He would want her to be happy.

Padma waited to see which car Catherine was getting on before getting out of her compartment, making no excuses to her sister and Lavender, making a point of brushing Catherine's shoulder as she passed the couple. She heard Catherine say something to Harry about catching him up, that she needed to use the toilet, and Potter didn't seem to think anything of it.

Almost moments after Padma closed the door behind her, it opened and closed again, this time locking, and she heard Catherine murmur a spell to keep out unwanted visitors. Padma smiled to herself as she sat on the sink, watching how Catherine's breathing changed from anticipation.

"You want some?" Padma teased, pulling out her vial of half-dose pills. Catherine licked her lips absently and nodded, taking a small step forward. "I want you to ask me for it."

"Please," Catherine said breathlessly. "Please, may I have Bliss?"

"Good girl," Padma said, beckoning Catherine forward with a crook of her finger. She leaned forward to kiss Catherine's soft, pale lips, enjoying the feeling of Catherine's rapid pulse as she touched her fingers to the younger girl's neck, tracing them down to her chest before gently squeezing and massaging her perfect breasts. Catherine's breathing changed again, more shallow now, and Padma pulled out a half dose, standing again, leaning casually against the wall.

Catherine eagerly opened her mouth and let Padma place the capsule on her tongue. And she swallowed with her eyes closed, shivering as it began to take effect.

"Do you want the other half?" Padma whispered in Catherine's ear, petting her silky hair. Catherine nodded, sighing as Padma's other hand slipped under her t-shirt to trace a nipple through only the thin lace bra. "Then you'd better earn it, hadn't you, pet?"

Catherine did not hesitate to drop to her knees, her hands scrambling to remove the barriers as Padma lifted her skirt, leaning back on the wall. The eagerness from the first time remained, but Catherine was learning technique now, and she was such a quick learner. When the girl's tongue darted out for that first delicious lick, Padma sighed with satisfaction, curled one hand's fingers in her hair and said, "That's a very, very good girl."

And Catherine worked all the more eagerly for her reward.

/-/

Hannah Abbott frowned when Catherin Black came into the meeting looking slightly ruffled, apologizing, saying she had to break up a small scuffle between some first year students. Malfoy and Granger bought this and continued with the meeting, but Hannah noted Potter's cheeks went slightly pink as he listened to Malfoy's description of small changes to be made to the patrol schedules.

A few minutes later Padma Patil strolled in smoothly, looking pleased with herself, as usual, and she settled in the only empty seat, beside Black, shifting as she settled her skirt under the table. Black closed her eyes for a moment, and Malfoy asked Patil where she'd been. Patil gave some lazy excuse about needing the toilet and there being a line, and Malfoy looked bored and suspicious, but he said nothing.

And Potter only went pinker.

/-/

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was so wrong in indulging Catherine like this, but it did seem harmless enough. He stared out the window, thinking of how happy she seemed when he said he would do this threesome, how much she seemed to want it, and he had promised himself to never deny her anything he could reasonably give her.

He closed his eyes and thought of how she had thanked him for agreeing, on Christmas night after sneaking away from the party, how wonderful she'd looked beneath him soaked in sweat and gasping his name. It was the best feeling in the world, knowing he could make her so happy. He touched his fingertips to the cool glass of the windowpane.

"Harry?"

He hummed, knowing it was Neville sitting beside him.

"Are you okay? You've been kind of distant today."

"I've just got some heavy decisions on my mind," Harry said, rubbing his nose. "About Kitty, you know."

"Thinking of proposing," Neville said, smirking. It wasn't a question, and Harry just smiled to himself, knowing he didn't want to discuss his other concerns with anyone, much less Neville.

"Gotta be right, you know?" Harry whispered, pressing his forehead to the glass. "Because she's perfect, it's gotta be perfect. And you know Kitty, wouldn't accept anything less than perfect."

"Take your time, then," Neville said softly. "She's waited this long. She can wait until you're ready to ask."

/-/

When Harry finally went to sleep, Neville felt a shiver down his spine, knowing they were all going to have to think about the future very soon. He'd already talked with Professor Sprout about apprenticing in Herbology, and he suspected Hermione was going to apply for a few different Ministry departments quite soon, perhaps even interesting ones.

Neville hadn't even begun to think about marriage yet, and he'd been dating Hermione well longer than Harry had even wanted to date Catherine. And yet…there was something inevitable about Harry and Catherine being together, like something their parents would have put together and planned before any of them had children.

Neville only wished whatever happened with his two oldest friends, they would end up happy and with some measure of peace. It seemed everything Catherine ever went into came out like a tornado on the other end, and Harry had once dug in his heels and insisted on being right, but now he threw his hands up and let her have her way on absolutely everything. Neville supposed this new method might keep the two happy and together, or it might take away the strange checks and balances between them and destroy them both in one of Catherine's whirlwinds of chaos.

He thought about sneaking a bit of firewhiskey from Harry's trunk, but he didn't know how he'd explain it in the morning, drinking while the others were asleep, so Neville curled up in his bed and stared at his pillow, trying to imagine what it would be like to wake up with another person there every morning.

 **A/N: So, Severus suffers for his sins, Padma sinks her hooks in deeper, and Harry contemplates two very important life choices.**

 **Review Prompt: On a scale of one to fifty, how much is Catherine making Severus regret this contract?**

 **Q &A: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER BELOW!**

 **Q: Do Harry and Kitty split up because of Padma? (Asma 20, Guest)**

 **A: So, spoiler. She definitely puts a great deal of strain on their relationship, and I'll say she comes close, but they don't break up, no. The problem is eventually…dealt with. But she leaves her mark, and it does change the way their relationship works in future.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	106. Descent

**A/N: Here's Bonus 2 for the week… and brace yourselves. That guest? Earned over a dozen bonuses. I may not put all up tonight, but I already planned a late night because Formula 1 is starting up again, so maybe I will. We may beat the 21-bonus record week if you guys push!**

 **-C**

Catherine felt her heart pounding in her throat as she and Harry went about their day, as though nothing at all unusual was happening. He was very sweet about Valentine's Day, but her mind was on the coming night's activities, and she could tell he was distracted as well. No doubt he was concerned about Bliss, which she'd told him a little bit about without telling him everything. She didn't want him to worry unduly.

"What d'you reckon the others are doing?" he asked, adjusting his jacket sleeve, leaning in to kiss her neck gently as they walked to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to check in on the twins' enterprise.

"Probably canoodling," she said breezily, smiling as she slipped her hand back into his, walking the last bit of the way to the shop, where a familiar face was helping a customer.

"Kitty!" George said, startled and pleased. "Good lord, look at you. You look stunning!"

The customer, a middle-aged woman who looked totally out of her depth in a joke shop, blinked from George to the newly-entered couple, seeming slightly affronted.

"Thank you, George," Catherine said smoothly. "We'll just look around while you finish with your customer."

The woman seemed pleasantly surprised as George said, "Oh, sure. Go ahead and look at whatever."

Catherine led Harry back into the shop, pausing at a door that led to apparently "Adults Only" pursuits, no students allowed. She raised an eyebrow at Harry, who seemed embarrassed and shook his head, but she led him in anyway. His breath caught as the curtain closed behind them and inside there were all manner of potions for various enhancements of pleasure, a few toys, and even a spanking paddle.

"If Molly Weasley ever saw this, she'd faint," Harry said softly.

"More likely she'd shriek at them," Catherine said, winking. "Oh, come on, Harry, she's had seven children. I doubt you can call the woman a prude."

This seemed to make Harry uncomfortable, but he wrapped his arms around her and let her look at a few of the potions, one drawing her particular interest. He leaned forward to see the label when she made a very enticing sighing sound, and he almost choked on his own tongue when he saw what it was – a potion to improve the taste of…fluids.

"You'd want me to drink that?" he said, feeling nervous.

"What?" she said, looking up at him as though suddenly noticing he was standing behind her. "Oh, no, not unless you'd want to. I was thinking of drinking it, actually."

Harry's pulse raised as he realized what she was saying, and he felt slightly dizzy. He'd never been happier to hear George's voice saying, "Well, here you are, you naughty little children."

Catherine smirked, turning to smirk at George, pulling out of Harry's arms to hug him. George took a peek at what she was looking at and smirked.

"What d'you say I give it to you free of charge," he said in a low voice, "if I get a taste?"

"Ha, you wish," she sighed loftily. "Thanks, but that's a price too high."

"Doubt you need it anyway," he purred.

Harry coughed to announce his presence to the disgustingly flirtatious pair, and seemed slightly pleased to see George blushing. Harry put his hand on Catherine's waist as a less than subtle reminder to everyone what the standing order was when it came to talking and thinking about Catherine's body.

"Right, I'll show you guys around," George said happily, leading the way through to the main shop.

/-/

Ginny strolled up the street on Blaise's arm, feeling surprisingly comfortable with the looks people were giving them. When she'd asked Blaise that morning why people kept staring, he simply and confidently told her they'd never seen such a good-looking couple, and she'd laughed. Things were always easy with them, and it was what her friends couldn't seem to understand. Blaise made her laugh, unconditionally. It didn't matter if it was at his expense or at something silly to make her feel better.

"So," he said, gesturing for he to sit when they got a table at the Three Broomsticks. "How do you think your parents would react to us dating?"

With an easy smile Catherine had told her had a sly look about it, Ginny leaned in and said, "They'd ask me to make sure I pour all my own drinks and prepare all my own food."

He had a good sense of humor about his mother's reputation as a black widow, and his lips twitched slightly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I don't cook. Your food is safe from me."

"And my drinks?"

"The only thing I would ever slip you," he said softly, taking her hand and brushing his thumb lazily over her fingers, "is something to make you fall in love with me if you ever left. I'd have to get someone else to brew it, of course. Maybe Draco. Possibly your dear friend, Catherine. Might even buy it from your silly brothers."

Ginny leaned back in her chair and said, "I suppose you'll just have to be sure you never give me a reason to leave, then?"

"I certainly don't intend to," he said, so low she almost couldn't hear it over the general noise of people eating and quietly conversing around them. The look in his eyes, she thought with a sensation of warmth in her chest, was intent and gentle, and not at all what she expected from a Slytherin. But she was beginning to learn expectations could be silly and almost always false.

/-/

Rhea sat in a corner of the Three Broomsticks, avoiding the gazes of people who knew her and paying special attention to her butterbeer. She could have been with Luna, doing something interesting, or she could have sat in her favorite library corner and finished her essay for Professor Black. Instead, she was fighting embarrassment and trying to decide how long she had to stay in Hogsmeade before her pride could allow her to go back and her friends would fail to ask her about the whole thing.

"Rhea?"

Too late, she thought bitterly, forcing a smile and looking up at Colin, who looked puzzled.

"I thought you were on a date," he said, looking around. "I don't see Smith."

"He never showed," she said as he sat, feeling her shoulders raise as her head tried to shrink into them, as if this were the secret to disappearing. "It doesn't matter. George said I'm better off without him."

"You went to see your cousin?" Colin said, his face torn between sympathy and some kind of satisfaction. She knew he didn't like Zacharias. None of her friends really did, but Colin and Catherine in particular. "Well. Since you're here and I'm here, let's do something. Have you finished your drink?"

"Yeah," Rhea said, her stomach twisting, wondering if he was doing this out of pity.

"Let's go…look at the bookshop?"

She was too excited to care when he said that, and she agreed, letting him link his arm with hers as they walked to the bookshop. Suddenly, the day wasn't so bad.

/-/

Cora looked beautiful, Jimmy thought as they sat down in the stupid teashop she'd picked out. She seemed a bit less sure of the place once they were sitting in it, but she wasn't totally upset about the thing.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said softly, smiling at her. "Erm, I probably should have said earlier, but I didn't…and I'm sorry."

He liked how she smiled a little as she said it back, and he thought maybe things were good, like better than they were, and maybe she'd not mind if he held her hand sometimes. Jason and Natalie liked to tease them, but Jimmy didn't mind so much as long as they weren't cruel about it. As long as they were teasing, he told himself, there was hope she wanted to date him as much as he wanted to date her.

"When we're done here," he said, feeling a slight nausea from his anxiety, "D'you think maybe we could check out your cousin's shop?"

"Oh, yeah, sounds like fun," she said happily.

/-/

Jason was warm beside her as they walked, and Natalie felt a kind of exhilaration as they slipped into the post office. They didn't need to go to the post office, but he knew it was her favorite thing to look at, coming from a Muggle family. And Hogsmeade had the largest wizarding post office in Britain. Her friends never needed to come in, but she would sneak a peek inside at every opportunity.

"There," Jason said, gesturing for her to sit on the bench at the back with him. "Let me know when you're feeling like getting a butterbeer."

Natalie hummed, nuzzling her face against his upper arm, feeling the warmth of his cloak and arm, amazed at how gentle and consistent he could be, with his crazy siblings.

/-/

Aeson sat with his older sister, flicking a bit of balled up parchment across the table to see if she'd react, but she didn't. He knew things were dire when Adrasteia would rather help him study than go to Hogsmeade with her friends, but Aeson knew it was because she was the only one of her set who hadn't been asked on a date for Valentine's Day. At least Aeson's request had given her a noble, suitable out.

"Ourania Prewett's gone with Stewart what's his face," Aeson said bitterly. "Ackley or whatever. He's an idiot."

"I wasn't aware you had an interest in the girl," his sister said coolly. "Now, enough about your cousins and their stupid friends. Let me see your essay."

/-/

Damon felt sick with nerves. It was the first time he'd asked out Caroline instead of her telling him they were going out, and he'd done it on Valentine's Day, of all things.

Still, she seemed happy enough. She kept chattering on about nothing in particular the way she always did, and they had a very full bag of sweets from their stop at Honeydukes.

"What are we doing for Valentine's Day next year?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.

"Next year?"

He could have kicked himself for the glare she gave him, and he knew he should have never let those words slip out. Catherine had probably made plans for what she wanted from him for every holiday for the next five years, and he just proved he didn't think in the long term. Would she dislike having someone who didn't think as far ahead as she did?

Damon certainly hoped not.

"Don't worry, darling," she said, patting his arm almost condescendingly. "I'll make sure you get a list. I'll try to be sure that it doesn't seem to come from me, too."

Although Damon knew his friends would have teased him for how it sounded, Damon was relieved. Caroline was so hard to please, and he so desperately wanted to please her. A promise of a list was like the heavens opening up and placing a guidebook in his lap.

Damon and Caroline had already visited his cousins' shop, and they'd grabbed a bite to eat and a butterbeer, so they walked through the village, Damon's anxieties about getting lost or something happening to them melting away as he noticed how happy Caroline was. They got to the foothills and settled amongst some rocks and started unwrapping more sweets, Damon feeding Caroline two pieces of chocolate for every one he ate himself.

This was only fair, of course, as she'd paid for the sweets.

Caroline sighed, laying down, resting her head on his lap, and Damon felt his cheeks growing red at this action, one she'd never done before. He knew enough from his cousins and their bragging and chattering about things people did intimately, and when her head touched his lap, for the briefest of moments, his mind flashed an image of Caroline's mouth around him. He tried not to think of it, but the image was there, and now it seemed to keep cropping up, impossible to get rid of.

A growing number of imaginings about doing intimate things with Caroline seemed to plague Damon, and while they made him feel guilty, like he'd done something she wouldn't approve of, it was so pleasant to imagine, felt so good to imagine what it would be like.

He was lost in his own world, caught between the pleasure of thinking about such things and his desire not to get caught up and have her realize what he was thinking. Caroline startled him back to the present moment when he stopped feeding her chocolate by sitting up again, her eyes right in front of his. Damon felt he couldn't breathe and he wondered if she was cross with him.

She didn't look cross with him. She looked…beautiful. He felt an urge to lean in and touch her lips, touch her face, feel her neck. He wanted to know if she was as soft as she looked, but he was terrified of upsetting her. Would she want such things? Would she like it? What if he did something wrong and she wanted nothing to do with him?

Caroline said something, but Damon seemed to be underwater, unable to hear it properly. He blinked, puzzled, and tried to think of something to say back to her. Before he could come up with anything, she pressed her warm, soft, slightly moist lips to his, and Damon thought perhaps he was still dreaming. Nothing in real life could ever feel this perfect.

/-/

Harry felt incredibly anxious as he followed Catherine into the Shrieking Shack that evening. There were things he could turn back from, though, and this was not one of them. He felt a bit of a fool, knowing she'd coaxed the promise out of him in a moment of desperation to touch her, to kiss her, and now he couldn't turn back.

Padma Patil was waiting already in a second-story bedroom, lazily shedding her robes to show a dress underneath leaving little to the imagination. She didn't greet Catherine with words, but took a small pill out of a vial and held it up. Harry felt mildly ill when he saw Catherine perk up, hurrying over, opening her mouth to accept the pill. He knew Catherine had vetted the ingredients, that they were safe, but it was still so astonishing to see her essentially taking a drug so casually.

"Hello," Padma purred, tracing her fingers over Catherine's jaw like she was caressing a beloved pet. Her eyes turned to Harry with little expression, simply acknowledging his presence. "Here reluctantly, Potter?"

Did he want to admit reluctance when he knew it was something Catherine wanted so much? Better to say nothing, he decided, meeting her stare. This only seemed to amuse Padma, who began to pet Catherine's hair in a more sensual way.

"Let me tell you how this works," Padma said as Catherine closed her eyes as if in utter paradise. "Kitty gets a half dose. Kitty wants the full dose. Kitty earns the other half." Catherine moaned. "I assume you'd rather watch until you're loose enough to join?"

Harry hadn't given it much thought, but this assumption seemed practical, appealing, even thoughtful of Padma, so he nodded, his breath catching as Catherine began undressing at a snap of Padma's fingers. His mouth went dry as he watched Padma lay down on the bed, Catherine burying herself between Padma's parted thighs.

As Harry watched, as he listened to the sound of his girlfriend eagerly eating out Padma Patil, he realized it was impossible not to become aroused by the experience. He was just thinking the room had grown hotter when Padma looked at him with knowing eyes.

"Did you want some?" she asked.

His fuzzy mind was unsure what she was offering, thinking she might have meant her body, or perhaps just some interaction in the highly sexual act, but she held up the vial of pills and waved it slightly. Harry hesitated.

The plan had been to watch, to maybe have a bit of intimate activity with Catherine, to make sure nothing bad happened to her. But something about the rush created by the sensual scene had him wondering if maybe he shouldn't just give an inch. Only a half dose. He didn't have to take the other pill.

"It's what Kitty wants, isn't it, my dear?" Padma said, tugging slightly at Catherine's hair with what appeared to be highly dexterous fingers. Catherine moaned a low, eager moan before nodding intently.

Harry's resistance was crumbling. He couldn't possibly deny Catherine something she wanted, something he was beginning to wonder whether he wanted himself. Padma held out a pill for him, and he knew from watching Catherine he was supposed to open his mouth, which he did almost without thinking. His heart was pounding in his ears as he felt the capsule on his tongue, and he swallowed, barely hearing Padma's purr of, "Good boy." He only heard the sounds of Catherine lapping at Padma, and suddenly it seemed those sounds were some of the most pleasant in the world.

Everything was pleasant. Everything was pleasing. When Padma suggested he strip, it seemed the most obvious and wonderful idea in the world. He wondered why it hadn't occurred to him sooner.

The sights and sounds of Padma being driven to a climax were incredible, and Catherine lifted her head slightly, smiling at him a sublime, wonderful smile. Padma suggested she get back to work, which Catherine did without hesitation, teasing Padma toward a second climax, while Harry heard the suggestion that Catherine needed attention.

No hesitation whatsoever in him, either. He bent down between Catherine's spread legs, pressing a few kisses along her thighs before diving in. Padma's encouragement told him if he proved his worth, he'd earn the other half of the dose, which caused a jolt through him, and Harry felt desperate to prove his worth, whatever it entailed.

The suggestion came from somewhere, at some point in the pleasant haze of sex and sensation, they do this regularly, perhaps every other week, and Harry felt the second dose pressed on his tongue. He swallowed, and then agreed, thinking he'd never enjoyed anything so much as this threesome.

 **A/N: So, Colin hijacked Rhea's trainwreck of a date, Caroline and Damon are in the beginnings of a more physical relationship, and Harry's crossed a line he can never take back.**

 **Review Prompt: Laying aside the drugged threesome, who had the best Valentine's Day?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Are we going to see more of Lily, James, Harry family dynamic? (Pebbles7092)**

 **A: Some, but this is largely focused on the Blacks. We'll definitely see more of Harry and Lily in moments, and Lily with James, but there will be limited scenes of all three. I wouldn't be opposed to doing a requested oneshot from anywhere on the Unknowns timeline, if that's something y'all are interested in.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	107. Easter Rebirth

**A/N: Here's Bonus 3!**

 **-C**

When Easter rolled around, Luna decided to spend the holiday – as many students did – at Hogwarts, to be better equipped for revising for exams, which always seemed to approach ever more rapidly as soon as Easter holiday was over. She would not be alone. Ryana Cotton was also spending the holiday at Hogwarts, and the two girls had agreed to revise together. The rest of their set, however, had abandoned them.

Ginny was spending the holiday with Blaise, much to her mother's chagrin, and the Prewetts were spending the holiday with the Blacks and Potters at Selwyn Manor. In fairness to Catherine, Luna had been invited to join them, but had declined.

"I feel a bit panicked," Ryana admitted as they waved goodbye to their friends at Hogsmeade station. "Like…like I should have asked Kitty six things before she left. Not that it would have done much good."

"How do you mean?" Luna asked, more curious than concerned. She did not believe there was anything to be concerned about.

"She's been distracted, doesn't seem to notice me very much lately."

Again, Luna was not concerned. Although things had improved from their first year or two at school, Catherine still did not rate Ryana with the rest of their friend group, and sometimes pulled her in to fill out numbers.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Luna said loftily. "I was wondering whether you wanted to start with Charms or Herbology."

Ryana blanched and said Herbology very quickly. Luna wondered vaguely whether Neville had decided to stick around. Most seventh years had, with the notable exception of Harry, who seemed even more attached to Catherine than usual.

Luna supposed it had to do with the fact he was very obviously considering proposing to her. That sort of thing probably caused a kind of bond like worship. And Harry had practically worshiped Catherine, anyway.

After suggesting they look for Neville and ask for his wisdom and knowledge, Luna led the way, stopping in the kitchens to say hello to the elves and ask for biscuits, if any were around. There were many biscuits to be had, and Luna and Ryana decided to start in the library and work their way out from there. If they couldn't find him, they could always start with Charms and wait until lunch.

"Does he study in the back or the middle?" Ryana hissed as Luna led the way through the mostly-empty shelves. They would fill with students stayed behind after lunch, when it seemed reasonable to teenagers to get into their work for the day.

"The Herbology section, of course," Luna said, ushering Ryana over when she caught sight of him. Neville raised his head slightly, his bleary eyes telling Luna quite plainly he had been at his work for many hours, perhaps even since the night before, and they slipped into the seats across from him. "Hello, Neville. Would you like a break from what you're doing?"

"Yes," he said, rubbing his temples. "Yes, I will help you revise. What have you got?"

"We've got biscuits," Ryana said brightly. She deflated slightly, glanced around, and said, "But maybe we should eat those elsewhere?"

Once agreed, they retreated to the kitchens to eat their biscuits and talk Herbology, which Luna thought was a pretty good holiday, anyway.

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Every time she stepped into Selwyn Manor, Rhea's breath caught with astonishment at its size and grandeur. She smiled to herself as she glanced up at the ceiling, recalling how as children, upon returning to this manor for holidays, Catherine and her siblings had been full of energy, running about, rushing to get to their rooms first, their spaces first. First, first, first. Now, Catherine lazily stepped into the foyer, slipping off her gloves and tossing her hair back. Even Professor Black could probably feel the tension of Harry watching Catherine, and Aunt Cara's amused suggestion the children (who all tensed at being addressed as such) go to their rooms to freshen up led to Harry eagerly dragging Catherine upstairs, all but carrying her very obviously toward her room. Rhea saw Professor Black's jaw tighten, but she couldn't blame him.

She was pretty uncomfortable, knowing details about Catherine's sex life, too. She tried to not know as much as possible.

"Rhea," Professor Black said, perhaps to distract himself from the behavior of his eldest child (or maybe youngest child, as Caroline dragged Damon off after her), "you'll be in your usual room."

"Thank you," she said, feeling the same lightness and flushing accompanying being addressed by Professor Black. No matter how long she knew the man, no matter how her own love life went, she couldn't help thinking every time she considered him how Catherine's father was the most beautiful man in the world.

Cora suggested they take their things up, as the only two non-Blacks still lingering, and Jason said he'd help them. He was subdued, and Rhea knew Natalie had taken ill and thus couldn't make it to the Manor for the holiday, and she felt very sorry for him. Even having Damon around wouldn't be much of a comfort. Rhea decided she would help Cora keep him company, as it would hardly matter to Catherine one way or the other. Harry and Catherine would scarcely untangle from each other long enough for meals.

/-/

Laura nearly reached the end of the holiday and realized she'd gained no rest from the break in classes. Perhaps she'd pushed herself too hard on revision, or perhaps because she kept her usual hours – which were admittedly not ideal. She looked around her and was annoyed to see that many other students who stayed at the castle seemed so refreshed, and she wondered what it was she had done wrong to feel this way. She thought perhaps she would ask Kevin when he returned, because she couldn't go through this another year. With OWLs on the horizon, she had to get a system to feel like a functional human being, whatever it might be.

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Caroline stretched out and enjoyed the first feelings of spring, enjoying the way Damon's fingers traced through her hair. It had taken a lot to convince him it was perfectly fine for her to put her head in his lap, even with her father in the next room, but now he'd capitulated, he almost would ask her to rest like this. She enjoyed the warmth of his body near and around her, and it was far more innocent than whatever her sister and Harry were doing behind closed doors, as if everyone didn't know already.

"You know what's funny?" she said softly, smiling as she laced her fingers through those on Damon's free hand. He hummed to signify he didn't know, prompting her to continue. "The bond Kitty has with Snape for her contract? He feels when she's…unfaithful."

Damon made a slightly horrified choking sound, and she smiled all the brighter. She'd realized it about a month prior, when she noted sometimes Snape would freeze and grit his teeth, or stop whatever he was doing and clench his hands into fists as though in pain. While it did seem a bit cruel, Catherine's inability to recognize or care about her impact on the lives of others was providing Caroline with an incredible influx of entertainment a la Snape.

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Ourania decided everyone had gone boring. She tried to coax her brother into pranking someone, but he was too busy doting on Caroline. And Caroline seemed too lazy to make the most of their time off school. Jason, Cora, and Rhea had holed themselves up in the library almost since the start of the break, but all they wanted to do was read together, as though it was somehow fun.

Even Harry and Catherine didn't seem interested in flying, spending their time mostly in Catherine's bedroom, and sometimes going outside when it was dry enough for them to make out in the garden and cuddle on the grass. Ourania had to content herself with James Potter, playing chess and trying to learn all of the puzzles in the house so Caroline couldn't challenge him to complete something he was unfamiliar with.

She supposed it was fun enough, and he had a lot of good insights on how to improve her Transfiguration grade, but Ourania lamented how it used to be, when her friends were actually fun and the holidays were for celebrating and enjoying themselves. Together.

"Don't worry," James Potter said with a wink when she expressed her sorrows to him, close to the end of the break. "When the newness wears off, Caro and Damon will be your partners in crime once again. These things happen every once in a while, but if you're patient, they'll come back to you."

Ourania hoped he was right, and suggested they go for a fly. He checked his wife wasn't in the room before agreeing to race her to the broom shed.

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Blaise kissed Ginny's hand, feeling his heart race as he heard his mother go into her bedroom. There were some joys to having a parent who wasn't particularly concerned with what her child was up to, and one was he didn't have to bother sneaking Ginny into his room. His mother didn't care what he did with her, and so when he pulled her into his room on the last night of Easter holiday, it was knowing no matter what, his mother would not interrupt them. He ignored his trembling as the door closed behind Ginny.

/-/

Cara always enjoyed the last night before Sirius went back to Hogwarts, not because she relished the idea of him leaving, but because she knew the reality of their being apart would hit him in full force on the last night. This holiday was hardly an exception.

He entered their bedroom smoothly, slowly, his eyes looking around for her. When they fell on her, pulling off her robes, she could see his eyes change from seeking to wanting in an instant, and she did not pause or hesitate in removing her robes. She'd no sooner shrugged off her robes than he hurried forward, his hands tracing the dress she'd worn underneath, looking for the zip with trembling hands.

"Please," she whispered, and the small moan escaping his lips told her it would be another long, beautiful night.

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Blaise was above Ginny, looking down at her beautiful skin, so wonderfully pale and delicate against his deep green sheets. He'd imagined for so long what she would look like, how this would be, and he could barely bring himself to breathe for fear of ruining the moment with the wrong move.

She grew impatient, however, and she leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth, teasing him, coaxing him into a full kiss. His hands went to her breasts, just slightly too small to fit his hands perfectly, but more than enough for Blaise's taste. His mouth went from kissing her lips to kissing her neck, and he inhaled deeply the woodsy perfume she was wearing. He could almost imagine being in a forest with her, pressing her against a tree, feeling the energy of the earth coursing through them as he buried himself deep inside her.

The energy of the earth was absent, but when he pushed himself inside of her, pausing to give her time to adjust to the sensation, he thought perhaps he could die in this moment and be fine. The stunned expression in her eyes when he looked down at her, the way she bit her lip to try to hide her pain, the feel of the warmth of her…. He would never say it out loud, but to him the best thing about being her first was to see her push through pain in search of pleasure, to know he'd caused that dichotomous desire.

It was like owning something unspeakably precious.

/-/

Fabian hated taking his children back to the train station, knowing he wouldn't see them again until June, but Dorcas was very pleasant about the whole thing. She could manage to be philosophical about letting their children go, knowing it would be all the more wonderful to get them back in June. He wasn't really capable of looking at it thus, being a bit greedy about his children, wanting them with him all the time.

As they waved goodbye on Platform 9 ¾, Fabian slipped his hand into his wife's and said, solemnly, "Almost makes me want to go to school with them."

"I'd give eyeteeth to go back to that school," James sighed, shaking his head. His wife frowned slightly, but said nothing, and the adults stood in companionable silence, knowing they had all begun counting down until June.

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Padma tapped her fingers on the sill of the window of their little room in the Shrieking Shack, stretched out and waiting for her pets to return. In spite of his initial reluctance, Harry now took his pills with almost as much eagerness as Catherine, and had even wanked for her in an empty toilet just before break, just the two of them, him on a half dose and aching for the full dose, her sitting on a dry sink edge and caressing his face, describing a scene for him to imagine as he got off. Harry wasn't full of surprises the way Catherine was, and required a much shorter leash, but she was so pleased with his progress, nonetheless.

They arrived right on schedule, and Catherine didn't need a prompt or a pill to begin stripping down, already slightly pink in the face.

"Well, hello," Padma said smoothly, beckoning Harry forward first to take his half dose, knowing he was worthless until he had Bliss in him. He took the pill without hesitation or argument, and she told him he ought to strip, which he did eagerly. Padma then turned her attention to Catherine, who was standing, naked and trembling, at the food of the bed. Padma smiled and said, "It's good to see you, too, pet. Come here."

Catherine crawled onto the bed, moving closer, closer, closer. She leaned over Padma's body and they shared a kiss. It took very little pressure to coax Catherine's mouth open, and Padma heard Harry's breathing change as he watched them make out. It was time to start pressing him out of his box a bit, knowing slow and steady progress was the key.

Catherine didn't even need the Bliss to go down on Padma at this point, but Padma fed her a half-dose anyway, knowing it would ply her response to questions of what she wanted Harry to do. They'd gotten into a bit of a rhythm, Catherine's mouth on Padma, Harry inside Catherine, but that wasn't going to do. Not for Padma.

Once Catherine was going down on Padma, it took a single word to get Harry touching himself, wanking at a slow, steady rate, almost a hypnotic rhythm of sound as he watched them. Padma occasionally said a thing or two that would help him see the situation in new ways, so he wasn't purely looking at Catherine, but at both of them together, and even sometimes just Padma.

"Come here," she said after her first climax, and Harry obeyed, letting her take his free hand and place it on her breast. He needed very little coaching to caress and massage her breast, and absolutely no coaching to move between the two breasts, to caress her torso in general. With him kneeling beside them on the bed like this, it was much easier to whisper in his ear things she wanted him to think, to accept, and she began to tell him how much he enjoyed watching them, joining them. This was something he accepted now, with no questions. His face relaxed when she said it, and she could see the eagerness to agree with her.

Then she began whispering how he was slightly jealous of Catherine, wasn't he? His face twitched slightly as his mind tried to process this new input, to understand what it meant, to agree or disagree with it. She knew he would eventually agree, but she continued whispering, in a steady stream, how much Catherine enjoyed what she was doing, how she loved tasting Padma, and how Harry needed to enjoy himself so much. His face was relaxing, and Padma spoke loud enough to be heard by Catherine, saying, "But you don't have to be jealous, Harry. Catherine would gladly let you have a taste, wouldn't you, Catherine?"

Catherine hummed, moaned her agreement against Padma, the vibrations a delicious reminder of how sensitive Padma was after a first climax.

But his shoulders were tensing, and she knew she had to go for his weakest point.

"In fact, you want to share, don't you, Kitty?" Catherine lifted her eyes, her shining, adoring eyes, and Padma raised an eyebrow. "That's what you want. You want Harry to taste me."

"Yes," Catherine said, as though nothing would please her more. "Please, Harry. Taste her."

Harry's minor resistance crumbled almost instantly when he heard Catherine say this was what she wanted, and Catherine moved from between Padma's legs to make room for Harry. When his tongue touched Padma, she sighed, focusing on what he would need to improve. She kissed Catherine, who melted at the gesture, as she caressed Catherine's breasts before fingering her to climax. As a kind of thanks, Catherine began licking and suckling Padma's breasts with the desperation of a drowning woman, and Padma allowed Catherine to worship her while she focused her attention on Harry. She gave him a few verbal tips, and when he hastened to comply, to improve for her, she leaned her head back, ran her fingers through his hair, and enjoyed the dual sensation of bodily pleasure and the pleasure of power.

"Good boy," she sighed. "Very, very good boy."

He hardened against her leg, and she knew she had him.

 **A/N: So, Harry's drawn in deeper, Caroline enjoys herself, and Blaise feels like a king.**

 **Review Prompt: Who thinks they know what the breaking point will be?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Please don't tell me Padma gets what she wants. (Asma20)**

 **A: Well, it really depends on what you mean by that. She has some VERY big plans, and while she does accomplish some of them, she doesn't reach ultimate fruition, and her success is essentially short-lived. Remember, she's only the antagonist for Part 2, we've got a different one in Part 3.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	108. Cold Water

**A/N: Here's Bonus 4!**

 **-C**

Dean frowned as he woke, noting first how it was still very dark. Then he thought the room was impossibly still, until he heard the slight creaking of footsteps crossing the room. Through bleary eyes he saw Harry sneaking toward the door to the dormitory.

Smiling sleepily to himself, Dean leaned his head back on the pillow. Harry had done this about once a week since they got back from holiday, sometimes more often. It probably had something to do with Catherine, probably the pair of them sneaking out or slipping somewhere in the castle that was their secret to have sex. Harry, unlike some blokes Dean knew, didn't kiss and tell, so Dean found he was a little bit curious about Harry's sex life.

Not curious enough to get over his fear of asking about it, but curious nonetheless.

He supposed it could also have something to do with the upcoming Dueling Club Championship, which Professor Black had organized virtually single-handedly to allow the prized students of the club to battle each other in a practical way and decide who was the best.

Dean wasn't bothered by who would win. It would almost certainly be Harry, Draco Malfoy, or one of the Black children. They had raw talent, they had the competitive drive, and they had the early help with spells allowing them to focus on things they wanted to learn instead of things they needed to learn when they first got their wands and came to school. All that, Dean mused, and they didn't care about breaking the rules.

Harry slipped back in quietly, looking frantic and distressed, and Dean lifted his head slightly to see what Harry was up to.

Leaning over his trunk, Harry dug around for a moment before pulling out a smooth, slippery-looking cloak of material Dean couldn't begin to identify. It was folded already, and Harry stuffed it inside his coat, pulling out a mirror Dean had never seen before and not bothering to close his trunk before slipping back out of the room. Whatever Harry was up to, Dean thought, smiling to himself, he had special tools of some kind to do it. He supposed it was sort of like watching a spy film, except Harry didn't really have enemies.

Everybody liked him, everybody wanted to be him, and even Draco was only someone he squabbled with sometimes, only to be friends with again when they worked out their differences.

Stirring in another bed, Dean realized, and he lowered his head again, waiting with held breath as he saw Neville sitting up out of the corner of his eye. When Neville saw Harry was gone he swore softly under his breath, probably having advised his closest friend not to do whatever it was he had gone to do, and Dean wondered if Neville would do something. Neville looked in Harry's trunk, seemed to see things were gone, and then he scratched his head, thinking over what to do. After what felt like ages of deliberation, Neville slipped back into his bed, but he couldn't seem to stop tossing and turning.

Dean decided sleep wouldn't do much good.

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Harry could scarcely breathe when he reached the meeting point, at the one-eyed witch's statue to Honeydukes. Catherine was already there, smiling at him as he slipped off the cloak.

"Hello," she said, taking in his outfit. "Am I overdressed?"

"Never," he sighed, looking at her dress. They were going in to London to see a show, and then to a hotel he'd booked after, and he could already feel his pulse rising at the thought of peeling the dress off her body and letting his mouth and hands caress her.

Harry kissed her hand, then her lips, wishing for the tiniest flashes of moments that Padma was around. Catherine's kisses were always sweet, but everything was sweeter with a bit of Bliss in the system. If the lack of the pill was bothering Catherine, she made no sign of it, and they slipped into the passageway and began their trek under the ground to Hogsmeade, where Harry – who had been practicing Apparition, which he had been certified in over the last holiday break – would take them to London.

The walk always seemed long and short all at once, but when they came out in the Honeydukes cellar, Harry's pulse was gone wild. They crept out of the shop under the cloak together, knowing that if they were caught, that would be the end of their night out. He kissed her hand again when they were out on the street of the village, and Catherine surprised him with another kiss to the lips before he had a chance to start focusing on Apparition. Harry sighed against her mouth, tasting her breath in the cool evening air.

This. This was the best thing in his life, by a million miles. He would drop everything else, anything else just to have moments like this. He'd thought about saying as much out loud, but he knew Catherine would tease him, whatever she thought of the admission, and he was always afraid of giving her fuel to tease him with.

"I love you," he allowed himself to say, and she smiled against his face at the words, which was really all the response he needed.

"I love you, too," she said, taking his hand so he could Apparate them.

King of the world, he thought, grinning as he focused his thoughts on the London street where they would be touching down, the place they were supposed to be in order to be discrete and still make it to their show on time. When he felt confident in his focus, he turned on his heel and felt the squeezing of travel all around him.

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Virginia Wimple of Slytherin sat up, frowning, as she tried to think of ways to get Aeson Lestrange's attention. It was a difficult thing, because he was always so focused on his cousin, Caroline Black, and her friends, because of his silly little competition.

And then it hit her. Ensure Caroline lost to Aeson in the Dueling competition and he would have time for other things, other points of focus. She had no idea how, but she could think of something.

What could possibly go wrong?

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The show was fine. It was interesting enough, although Harry didn't really watch it. He held Catherine's hand and watched the glow of her eyes as she was glued to the story. It was a classic, she said. Something about miserable people, with a kind of repetitive soundtrack, if he was honest, but she seemed so interested, and she even cried a bit toward the end. Of course, Harry would never mention the tears, knowing she would deny them, but he couldn't help enjoy watching her grow so emotional over something other than trying to win.

As they stepped out of the theatre together, hand in hand, Catherine must have dropped her program, and a young boy – maybe ten or eleven years old – stopped her and held it up.

"Excuse me," he said, smiling at her, holding it out. "Excuse me, sir, your wife dropped this."

Catherine's lips twitched as she thanked the boy, taking the program and turning away without a word about whether they were actually husband and wife.

Somehow, this was better than sex, Harry thought mildly as they walked toward their hotel. The idea they were husband and wife. Better than sex. Better, even than Bliss.

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The walk to the hotel was a bit long, but the cool air on Catherine's face was exhilarating, knowing they'd had a beautiful night out, but also knowing the best was yet to come. She already had all kinds of ideas for how to drive Harry out of his mind, perhaps even to the point of begging. She loved it when he begged. Catherine licked her lips when the hotel came into view, and she traced her thumb along his hand. She could see his shoulders stiffen, and she felt her heart pounding violently in her chest thinking it was a reaction to her.

And then she saw what Harry saw – Uncle James, leaning against the outside of the hotel building, frowning right at them. She felt her pulse in her throat when she realized he'd seen them. If he'd just been waiting there, perhaps they could have slipped off into the night and gone back to the school, or maybe spent the night in Hogsmeade instead. But they'd been made, and she knew it, and Harry seemed to realize it as well.

If there had been any doubt, Uncle James made his way over to them, eyebrows raised, and Catherine and Harry froze in their tracks, Catherine feeling herself shrink slightly, which she couldn't remember the last time she'd done.

"Well," Uncle James said coolly, "a nice night for it, I expect. Let's walk."

"Where?" Harry said, his voice tight and anxious.

"Walk," his father said in a hard voice Catherine had never heard before, and the teenagers complied without another word.

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Lily was just pouring tea for frowning Sirius and frowning Cara when the front door opened and she heard the obvious sounds of her husband marching in their embarrassed children. Catherine did look lovely, Lily thought as the teens were sat down at the kitchen table of the Godric's Hollow cottage, with her dark hair in easy waves around her face, her slim figure dressed in a slightly risqué black dress.

"Well," Sirius said, frowning. "You're very clever, I'll give you both that. Have a seat."

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Jimmy rubbed his eyes as Jason stood up abruptly, late in the night – or perhaps early in the morning. Jason began pacing the floor, and Dennis turned over as if he'd been unconsciously aware of Jason's unrest but not enough to pull him from his sleep.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy hissed at his friend, who froze by the window, looking out at the grounds. Jason didn't turn to face Jimmy, just stared out the window, as he gave his answer.

"I don't know," he said. "Something. Something…. I don't know. Probably something with Kitty. It's always something with Kitty."

Jimmy hummed into the darkness, a bit too tired to feel proper concern or pity for his friend. Having Catherine Black as a sister must be exhausting, Jimmy thought, before closing his eyes, laying back on his pillow, and letting himself succumb once more to sleep.

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Lily folded her hands and listened as her husband and Sirius lectured their children – likely a new experience for Catherine, who appeared shell-shocked.

"What were you thinking?" Sirius said, horrified. "If it weren't for Severus telling me you've been…well awake in the middle of the night, and James mentioning that there were some less-than emergency charges on the card he'd given Harry, I'll confess, I wouldn't have figured it out."

It was all Lily could do not to laugh. Sirius and James snuck out all the time using the cloak and their map and their mirrors. And they'd only been best friends. When two people in love were in different Houses and had such tools, how would Sirius not assume his child would be sneaking out in the middle of the night to have fun and have sex where they wouldn't be caught?

Very softly, though, Cara finally spoke up.

"The fact is," she said calmly, with sad eyes, "you've broken our trust." Catherine's eyes widened like she'd been slapped across the face, but Cara wasn't done. "You've stepped out of the safety of the school, never mind what happened when you snuck out in Godric's Hollow, and you went to the largest city in the country where no one knew where to find you if something happened. You used things we gave you against the rules under which they were gifted to suit your misbehavior, and you certainly haven't done this only once. The fact is, I'm very disappointed in both of you."

Lily saw tears welling in Catherine's eyes, and she knew they'd gotten through, at least to a point. Sneaking out of dormitories wasn't likely to stop, but perhaps traipsing across the country in the dead of night would.

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Some days, Rose Zeller wished she didn't notice things the way she did. At breakfast, she saw Harry Potter seemed far away, Catherine Black appeared almost humble and chastised, and Professor Black was tense, frowning, and not at all his usual self. They'd all been fine at dinner, so Rose spent her day wondering what might have happened in the night. She didn't want to know, but she felt she had to know.

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Hermione knew only a very little about the events of the night, and to her they hardly mattered for the moment. Harry and Catherine snuck out, as they often did. They were caught by their parents. They were likely chastised, and now they were back at school, expected to get on with it.

What was interesting to Hermione was how Harry seemed distant, confused, unable to focus on his work or context. Finally, she decided to ask Neville what was wrong with him.

"Surely this isn't from getting caught," she said, raising her eyebrows.

Neville sighed, shrugged, and said, "I think he's thinking about the future, Hermione. And those two…. Well, slow's not a word they understand."

Marriage, Hermione realized. He was thinking about the end game with Catherine, and she began to pity him. Her protective father, her high standards, the contract with Professor Snape…. He had to be a little bit unsure, just a tiny bit scared. Hermione vowed to be extra delicate with Harry until he made up his mind, one way or another.

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Lily hadn't said a word to anyone, not even James, but when Harry left their home the night before, she'd recognized in his eyes the look she'd seen in James's so many years ago, in the weeks leading up to his proposal. Harry, dear, poor Harry, was thinking about asking Catherine to marry him, and what should have been simple, something that looked so simple to all who looked at them, would no doubt feel terribly complicated to both Harry and Catherine. Lily knew she'd have to have a word with Cara about the matter, because Catherine's contract would complicate things, but Sirius….

How on earth were they going to manage Sirius on this one?

She felt for the first time her boy was all grown up, hardly a boy anymore, but a young man who was making decisions impacting and even changing the whole trajectory of his life. Yes, he had maturing to do. Yes, there would be many bumps along the road, but Lily felt proud of her son, mostly, in what he had become, and felt a small sense of relief that despite the complexities of knowing Catherine Black, of loving her, his life had been a relatively peaceful, happy, carefree kind of life.

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Padma tried not to look too amused when Harry asked her if she had a moment, and she motioned for him to follow her. She didn't bother to check the toilet was empty first, and Harry didn't notice, but it was empty. She almost reached for the vial when Harry began to pace and she realized he wanted to talk. A small flutter of nerves flared up in her chest as she wondered whether he'd slipped. She hadn't accounted for him slipping. It could throw everything off.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, watching him pace.

"The future," he said, firmly. "When we leave Hogwarts…what happens?"

She smiled, realizing what he meant.

"Nothing needs to change, Harry," she said, grabbing his hand as he was passing by her for the tenth time. He paused, and she pulled him closer. He stood before her, looking conflicted, confused. "What's the most important thing in the world, Harry?"

"Kitty's happiness," he said without thinking. She'd not needed to train him on that one, but it was always nice to hear how easily he said it.

"And what makes Kitty happiest?"

"You do."

That took a considerable amount of training, and she felt a rush of arousal at how quickly, how easily he said it. She caressed his jaw, annoyed with its stubble but not letting it get in the way of her goals. She needed him focused.

"Harry," she said sweetly, "I like the two of you together. I do. You're good for her. You recognize her needs. She loves you."

"I love her," he sighed, closing his eyes at the touch.

"Of course you do," Padma cooed, leaning closer. "Nothing would be better than you two being married, Harry. Utter marital bliss."

His body tensed, and she knew she had him. She pulled out a pill from the vial and held it to his lips. He didn't hesitate to take it into his mouth and swallow as she moved his hands to her breasts.

"That's a good boy," she said, sighing. "A very good boy. Nothing about this needs to change when we graduate, when you marry. Because it's important we make Catherine happy, isn't it?"

"Yes," he sighed.

"And what's the second most important thing?"

"Pleasing you."

"Very good," she purred, closing her eyes and sticking her finger in his mouth, feeling him lick and suck it instinctively. "Now, Harry, I think you shouldn't waste this opportunity to get on your knees and show me how much you want to please me."

His knees hit the tile floor before she'd finished speaking and he began eagerly positioning himself between her thighs. Not long now, she thought as she felt his tongue on her. Not long until she could begin making the most important dynamic changes to their little game. And with Catherine and Harry married, so much the better.

It never had to end.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine get a sharp slap across the face, Harry ponders how to move forward, and Padma solidifies her position in the long-term.**

 **Review Prompt: How d'you reckon Harry's going to ask?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Why isn't anyone stopping Padma? (Guest)**

 **A: The teens know and don't realize it's anything more than a third wheel in the relationship – consensual. The adults don't know it's happening. If they did realize what was happening, they'd stop it, but no one really knows but Harry and Catherine, and they're in way over their heads.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C**


	109. Hanging from the Ledge

**A/N: Here's Bonus 5!**

 **-C**

Slipping out on a Saturday morning, just before shops and businesses opened, but before brunch, Harry knew his chances of being caught had gone down significantly. This was all just as well, because he needed to be alone, and he needed to be unseen.

His first stop was in Birmingham, at a jeweler he knew to be one of the top wizarding jewelers in the country. His heart was pounding in his throat as we walked in the door, and the salesman raised his eyebrows as Harry entered.

"Mr. Potter," he said, obviously recognizing Harry from the resemblance to his father. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Ben Crewe."

"Good morning, Mr. Crewe," Harry said, his palms sweating.

"What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's throat seemed be closing up as he shifted from foot to foot. He wanted to be able to tell this man what he was looking for, but the words seemed caught in his throat, so Harry's eyes darted to the engagement rings on display and the man nodded, understanding. Apparently, Harry wasn't the first young man to lose his ability to speak upon looking for an engagement ring.

"What sort of style would you expect for the young woman?" Mr. Crewe said respectfully.

"Erm."

Mr. Crewe smiled slightly, pulling out a few different rings. One was very angular, another a simple solitaire (the only word about jewelry that Harry knew), and another looked like something from one of the old pictures Catherine would gasp over, pictures of famous actresses from the fifties and sixties Harry's mother would show her.

"That," he said, pointing, "that sort of thing."

"Vintage," Mr. Crewe said, pulling out different kinds of loose stones. "What kind of cut, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's hands were sweating again in full force as he looked. He wanted something smooth, but round wasn't quite right. He pushed away a few stones he didn't like, and there was a thin sort of almost-oval that was appealing, but then he noticed a square-type cut with smoother edges with a surprising kind of reflective quality. He picked it up, turning it this way and that in the light. He'd never seen anything like it before, and he knew Catherine would like that. She would have to have the only one of something like this, a cut that nobody else she knew would have.

"This," Harry said, setting it down on the table. "She'd like this."

"Excellent, excellent," Mr. Crewe said. "Asscher cut. Let me see…. Try these two."

Harry mused that this was tenser than buying his wand and he looked between two asscher cut rings, one clean and angular, the other with almost braided diamonds halfway down the band on either side of the main diamond. He licked his lips and without hesitation pointed to the second ring. Mr. Crewe then pulled out a little bag of asscher cut diamonds and they began selecting the exact diamond for her ring. Harry's mind was swimming with words like clarity, carat, and color. If someone had asked him later to quantify the ring he'd selected, Harry would have had no idea what to say, but he could have told them how much it cost.

Twenty-five hundred Galleons, out of pocket, which Harry was happy to have charged to the account (his mother would understand), which he supposed would be about £12,000 in Muggle currency. It was more money than he would typically spend in a year, but Catherine was worth it.

He left the shop feeling slightly less nauseous, but he still had another stop to go.

/-/

Philip Whisp was trying to enjoy his brunch. It was the one thing on Saturdays to truly made him happy. Would it really be so much for him to have just a pinch of happiness on a Saturday morning?

But he found this particular Saturday's brunch almost impossible to enjoy. It seemed Harry Potter was not at brunch, and while his friends were trying to play it off as nothing, the suspicion in Professor Black's eyes was plain even from where Philip was sitting. Harry Potter had almost certainly snuck out of the castle again.

This time, he hadn't taken his girlfriend with him, as Catherine Black was at the Ravenclaw table, not with her usual friends, but sitting across from one Padma Patil. If she'd noticed Potter was gone, she was giving off no signs. She seemed perfectly happy with her brunch, lucky that she was.

Philip wished he knew Potter's secret, how he got everything he wanted and still managed to sneak out of Hogwarts. Philip didn't know what he would have done had he the ability to sneak away, but he would have liked the option, all the same. And while he didn't think it wise or polite to ponder on the lives of others, he couldn't help but wonder where Potter could be on a Saturday morning.

Or perhaps, he heard a girl nearby whisper to one of her friends, he'd been gone all night again.

Astoria Greengrass gave the girl a withering look, told her it was unladylike to gossip, and Philip tried to turn off his curiosity and focus on his toast.

/-/

Harry stepped into the real estate office and told the receptionist he was looking to meet with Madam Parwith. The receptionist was a Squib, he knew, and Madam Parwith a Muggle-born witch. By asking for her particularly, he signaled the receptionist he was a wizard (if she, unlike Mr. Crewe, didn't know who he was already) and his needs and desires might be different than the firm's average customer.

"Certainly, Mr. Potter," the receptionist said brightly, and Harry almost smiled at the recognition. There were perks to his status, he had to admit. "Please have a seat. I will let her know you are here and she'll be with you shortly."

He sat down in a squishy purple armchair and stared at an antique clock in the corner, wondering what kind of strange person or persons had been in charge of decoration.

/-/

"Harry went to do what?" Ron hissed at Neville, glancing over all of their collective shoulders in a quick visual sweep to be sure that Professor Black wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Her dad's going to kill him."

"Not likely," Neville said, frowning. "At least, not if it's presented in the right way. Harry will probably ask us for help."

Ron scratched his nose.

"He's doomed, then," Ron said, feeling rather small. "I mean, what do we know about marriage?"

Neville shrugged.

/-/

Lily knew exactly what was happening when she saw the charge – the very, very large charge – when she went to Gringotts to see about getting Harry set up on his own account. After all, she had reasoned with herself, he was about to graduate, and he was going to be making his own money and choices shortly.

Once she knew, she decided she'd better sit James down and have a chat before he saw the charge. It would be better if she told him than if he found out himself.

"You're home early!" her husband said, obviously pleased to see her. He beamed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Saved the vampires already, have we?"

"Alas," she sighed, "we've got to start almost from scratch. But that's not why I'm here. I was out running errands and decided we needed to talk."

At this, James blanched, obviously trying to think of what he'd done wrong recently, and whether any of it was at this magnitude. He quickly offered to make tea, and Lily said she'd make it, he'd better sit down, and her poor husband looked like he was about to sick up.

"In my defense," he said when she put the kettle on, "it was Sirius's idea."

She filed that away for later, just in case it wasn't merely his canned response when he didn't know what he'd done, and she took his hand.

"It's not about you," she said, smiling bracingly. "It's about Harry." If possible, James became even more tense. "He's making some big choices, big changes in his life and I wanted you to know before you saw the charges – he's bought a ring."

James blinked, frowning slightly. She saw his eyes narrow in confusion and he said, "What, like a nose ring?"

Lily hid her laughter by getting up to pour the tea and she said, "No, my love, an engagement ring. He's going to ask Kitty to marry him."

Silence as she fixed the tea, and then –

"Please tell me he didn't do what I did and pay a small fortune."

She closed her eyes, smiled, and said, "Twenty-five hundred galleons. And before you panic, that's about what you spent on that broom of his."

"Yes, but Lily, that's a broomstick."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed this wouldn't take as long as she thought it would to talk him around before he next spoke to Sirius.

/-/

Rhea asked Catherine if she was worried about Harry.

"Not really," Catherine said serenely. "He can take care of himself. He'll be back."

"I suppose I'd be worried," Ginny said, grinning. "Not because of things outside the castle, but what your dad's going to do to him when he does come back."

Catherine shrugged, laying down on the library bench and sighing.

Ever since Harry and Catherine had started sleeping together, Rhea began to see changes in her friend, and changes she decided were mostly positive. She'd been more relaxed, more open, more forgiving, more trusting. She was still self-centered and a bit lazy when she knew she was already the best at something, but Rhea suddenly wondered if Catherine would revert when Harry graduated, when he was gone. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

/-/

Harry shook Madam Parwith's hand and sat across from her at a dark wooden desk, neat and angular, precise and clean.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she said, fixing him with a hard but somehow still friendly smile. "What can I help you with today?"

He shuffled in his seat.

"I'm graduating Hogwarts soon," he said, "and I'd very much like to start thinking about where I'll live after. I want to have things in place to move right away."

"What kind of property are you thinking of?" she asked, turning her head toward a poster she had of different sorts of properties for his consideration. All he could see for a moment was how her hair didn't move when her head did, how it was glued to her skull with no motion at all. Too much gel. "A flat, perhaps?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I want to think longer-term. I'm going…going to propose soon, and I want to have something to last through life changes."

"Ah, that does change things," she said brightly. "May I ask…?"

Harry cleared his throat, glancing around as though someone were listening in at corners of the room. But Madam Parwith worked with the richest families in wizarding England not because she was the best at what she did – although she was very good – but because she was famed far and wide for her discretion.

"Catherine Black," he said softly.

"I see," she said tightly, tapping the table with impeccably clean, angular, manicured nails. "I do believe Miss Black will come into property of her own."

Harry nodded.

"She'll be willed property, yes," he said. "But I don't want to rely on her parents to give us use of the property before their passing, and a woman of her status is used to…options."

"Quite," Madam Parwith agreed. "Are we thinking along the lines of Selwyn Manor, or something more like your family's cottage? Or perhaps you were thinking of a city property like Grimmauld Place?"

Harry hesitated, wondering what Catherine would prefer before saying, "Rural, and perhaps like the cottage. Maybe bigger."

Madam Parwith's carefully manicured hands began flipping through files for options at sharp, rapid pace.

/-/

"Daddy," Caroline said in her most refined begging voice, knowing her father would grant her almost anything when he was this distracted. "Daddy, I need a new broom."

"Do you?" her father asked, frowning as he tried to think of how old her broom was. She was part of the Gryffindor team now, and it was important she had a good broom. She'd gotten him to agree to this yesterday. "Very well. What do you want?"

"A Firebolt will be lovely."

"Very well," he said, glancing over her shoulder to where Harry was walking in the front doors of the castle like it was nothing. "I'll see to it, Caro. Have a good day."

She kissed his cheek and sauntered off, smirking.

/-/

As soon as Harry was given a detention, which didn't seem to ruffle the boy at all, Sirius's promise to his youngest began to sink in and he realized he'd have to talk to his wife before he made that kind of purchase.

Cara was surprised to see him at lunchtime on a Sunday, but she merely raised her eyebrows in question when he swaggered in like it was nothing and pressed a kiss to her lips. As soon as he'd kissed her he thought perhaps he ought to seduce her and deliver the news of his promise post-coitus to soften the blow. Before he could enact this brilliant plan, however, his wife leaned out of the kiss and said, "What is it, Sirius?"

Blunt and to the point, he thought bitterly.

"Please don't be mad at me," he began.

"At least we aren't blaming it on James today," she said dryly. "What am I not supposed to be mad about now?"

He winced and said, "I kind of promised Caro a new broom on accident."

"Did you indeed."

"And I sort of accidentally agreed to get her a Firebolt."

Sirius stepped back for a better look at Cara's face. Her eyes were unreadable, but she rubbed her temple lightly with one hand as she said, "How do you accidentally do all this, Sirius?"

"Our daughter asked when I was distracted with something else," he admitted, slightly ashamed he'd fallen for that. "I don't know where she learns these things."

"From you, of course," Cara said, amused. When he frowned at her, not sure what she was talking about, she smiled wrapping her arms around his neck. "You asked for children two and three after sex." He grunted in acknowledgement. "You asked about a toy broom for Harry during sex." He snorted, having forgotten. "And you asked for the holiday to Greece while in the process of seducing me."

"Hmm," he hummed, tracing his fingers along her jaw. "You have a point. But I'd like to point out that Caro wasn't present on any of those occasions."

"Oh, there are many other occasions," she said with an almost wicked gleam in her eye. "Those were just my favorites."

Sirius's lips twitched and he pressed his lips to hers, deciding everything turned out alright after all, and they only moved upstairs when Phineas Nigellus cleared his throat and reminded him some of the portraits had a harder time leaving the room than others.

The day was salvaged, Sirius decided as he peeled Cara's robes off her and felt his pulse race. The day was perfect.

/-/

Aeson had expressed already to Draco his surprise and thinly veiled disappointment that Draco wasn't taking the Dueling Club tournament more seriously. Draco didn't bother trying to explain to his young protégé of sorts.

The main thing was Draco had learned there were more important things than winning. He was thinking of his NEWTs, his future career, his relationship with Astoria, his particular brand of friendship with Harry and Catherine and their sets. Winning the Dueling Club Tournament would be a mark of distinction, but if he wanted to work in politics, in the more cerebral parts of the Ministry, it would do him far less good than high marks on his exams and friendship with the right sorts of people.

And Draco had Hermione Granger's brilliance and meticulous nature to contend with.

"I suppose you and the Weasley girl are going out this weekend," Draco said nonchalantly when Blaise sat down with him in the armchairs by the Slytherin fireplace. "Use protection, will you?"

"Always," Blaise said, eyes glittering when Draco bothered to look up. He'd never understand Blaise's taste, but Ginny Weasley was a friend of Catherine's, so she couldn't be all bad.

/-/

Sirius presented his youngest with the broomstick – bought as soon as Sirius left Grimmauld Place with all the reluctance of a man who'd been turned down for a second go – after dinner, and she was so pleased he decided it was almost worth giving her something so dangerous and expensive and against what his wife wanted.

"Thank you, Daddy," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing all over his face. Sirius indulged himself in the pride and happiness of his daughter by wrapping his arms around her and lifting her into the hug. "Daddy, can I have a flying horse?"

He laughed and said no, if she wanted a flying horse she'd have to wait until she had her own job to pay for it. Some things even he could draw the line on.

When Caroline hurried away to show the broom to all of her friends, Remus walked up to stand even with Sirius, the pair watching her go.

"I'll be Cate's furious," he said mildly.

"She's taken it rather well, actually," Sirius said, smiling to himself as he thought over how she'd taken the lead this time, something she almost never did. As much as he enjoyed himself during their usual sexual encounters, there was nothing in the world Sirius enjoyed more than Cara on top, controlling the pace, the pressure, everything – controlling him. It'd only be better if she'd give in to his begging and chain him to the bed, but she'd yet to give in to that one.

"I'll be sure to keep an ear to the ground," Remus said, amused. "No doubt she'll be in the infirmary every third week."

 **A/N: So, Harry gets a ring and a house, James and Lily are not on the same page about what a reasonable ring cost is, and Sirius proves he's a sucker for more than just his eldest.**

 **Review Prompt: How's Sirius going to take this news?**

 **Q &A: Out of questions! Please ask more!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	110. Permission

**A/N: Bonus 6 for you guys!**

 **-C**

Sirius had been warned by Cara to expect surprises in his future, which was the last thing Sirius ever wanted to hear. He sat with Remus, who was pouring firewhiskey, and with Severus, who was frowning at the fireplace.

"You look way too thoughtful," Sirius said, feeling his skin go cold. "Tell me she's not."

"She's not copulating, no," Severus said softly. "A strange and welcome change from most Hogsmeade weekends. I do believe she's drunk, however."

"There are worse things," Sirius said, brushing off this statement. Then he paused. "She's…she's not pregnant, is she?"

Severus choked on the tea he'd been sipping and said emphatically, "Certainly not. Believe me, if that had been the case, you would have been told immediately."

This was a relief to Sirius, who had been certain that would be the surprise, his eldest child winding up pregnant in her sixth year. Seventh year wouldn't be such a big deal because she could finish school without much imposition, but sixth year would cause problems. Remus shook his head and passed a glass of firewhiskey.

"What makes you think it will be a bad surprise?" Remus said softly. "Perhaps Cate's coming to visit you."

Sirius hummed turning over that thought. He could imagine her showing up at his quarters, entering and undressing before crawling onto his bed. He must have made some kind of sound of desire or approval, because both his friends cleared their throats and gave him annoyed looks.

They didn't understand. They were both still bachelors.

"Out of curiosity," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair, "how have the women in our lives not managed to pair you off with anyone yet?"

"Lily's not that determined," Remus said with a smile.

"Narcissa doesn't know that many people," Severus said, smirking.

Translation: they had tried and failed and gave up before finding the right matches.

Sirius tossed back the firewhiskey and passed the glass back to Remus for a refill, which his friend did reluctantly.

"I thought about following her," Sirius said.

"Who?"

"Kitty, of course," Sirius snorted as he took back his newly full glass. "As a dog, you know. I thought about transforming and following her and Harry, see where they went, scare them to death. She's not seen my form since she was little, and she might not recognize me. Or…. I decided not to because she might remember. Or it might ruin her childhood memories."

"You are being ridiculous," Severus said calmly when he set down his cup.

"Says the man who feels pain every time she has sex," Sirius grumbled, setting down the cup.

Remus rubbed his temples.

"I thought you were okay with this," Remus said firmly.

Sirius's nostrils flared as he downed his second glass. He pushed it back to Remus for a third. He was okay with Harry and Catherine dating. He wasn't sure he'd ever be okay with the idea that his little girl was having sex.

"Let's put it this way," Severus said calmly. "Would you rather she wait out the terms of her contract and have sex with me?"

Sirius pushed away his newly filled glass and stood up.

"Excuse me while I vomit."

Severus just smirked.

/-/

Harry fought the urge to vomit as Mr. Crewe gave him the little box. Harry opened it to see a very sparkly ring before snapping it closed.

"All just as you ordered," Mr. Crewe said briskly, "paid in full. A very fine ring, if I might say so."

"Thank you," Harry said, the tightness in his chest growing as he stuck the box in his pocket. "Thank you very much, Mr. Crewe."

"A pleasure, Mr. Potter," the man said earnestly, bowing slightly. "If my company can ever be of service again, I trust you remember this experience in a positive light."

"I'm sure I will," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck as the man took his leave and hurried off. Harry's nausea didn't subside as he patted his pocket and turned to meet Catherine where they had agreed, in the Shrieking Shack. Padma had a cold and wouldn't be joining them, but apparently she'd given Catherine just enough Bliss for their meeting with a reminder to behave themselves.

Harry knew what this meant, knew they had to earn their full doses, and his pulse already raced at the thought of tasting Catherine.

She was undressing when he entered and he could hardly breathe as he carefully took off his own robes, folding them and setting them aside.

"Open wide," she said teasingly, holding up a pill. He didn't know if she'd had her half dose or not, and as he swallowed the pill and felt its warmth in him, he didn't care. He wanted to earn the full dose. He almost dropped to his knees right there, but Catherine's hand stopped him.

"We're doing something different today," she said breathlessly. "Padma did this with me the other day and wanted to introduce it to you, too. You'll love it."

He knew he would. He loved everything Padma suggested. Catherine loved everything Padma suggested. Just the thought of Padma right there whispering in his ear the things he should do to earn his dose put a delicious shiver down his spine, and he followed Catherine's directions to lay down on the bed and put his hands above his head. He was slightly stunned when she conjured chains connecting his arms to the headboard, but the cool metal on his skin was pleasant. Catherine straddled his body, kissing him and nibbling on his lower lip to drive him mad. He wanted to touch her but he couldn't move.

"You want to earn it?" she whispered.

"Yes," he gasped as she kissed down his neck teasingly.

If he hadn't had half a dose of Bliss in his system he would have been startled when she straddled his face, but he knew what to do. His tongue stretched to taste her, to gather every little bead of moisture, to drive her over the edge. Between the urge of more Bliss and the delight at tasting her, it would have been enough to make this his favorite thing in the world, but the fact Padma had directed it to be just like this somehow made it better.

Because he wasn't just pleasing Catherine. He was pleasing Padma as well, and before he even had the second dose, before Catherine touched him, he came.

/-/

Cora sat with Jimmy, Natalie, Jason, and Dennis, alternating between revising for upcoming exams and practicing for the Dueling Club tournament.

"You know none of us are going to win, right?" Natalie said as she picked up her wand again, which Jimmy had retrieved from her with a quick Disarming Spell. "It's either going to be one of the NEWT level students or one of those crazy third years who've focused on this at the exclusion of all else."

Jason and Cora exchanged a glance knowing Natalie meant his siblings and their rivals, but they just let Dennis chide Natalie for her negativity. She was right, of course, but no one wanted to say it out loud.

/-/

Harry knocked on his professor's door and heard the hoarse, soft voice of Uncle Remus say, "Enter."

The door creaked slightly as Harry opened it. He couldn't remember it doing that before, in seven years at Hogwarts, seven years of visiting Uncle Remus for advice, tea, company. His heart was pounding and he could feel it in his throat as Uncle Remus smiled at him, motioned for him to sit down. Harry did so, knowing there was so much he couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't tell Uncle Remus, but he needed the advice he was seeking more than he needed to avoid accidentally telling someone about what he and Catherine were doing with Padma.

"What can I do for you, Harry?"

Harry cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his hair, and said, "I need a bit of advice, Uncle Remus. On something very…important."

Uncle Remus's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, and before he could ask what this advice would be about, Harry pulled the little box out of his pocket, he box he now carried constantly to avoid it being seen by anyone.

"Ah," Uncle Remus said with a slight wince. "That would be the surprise Sirius was warned about." Harry's head jerked in surprise and Uncle Remus smiled. "I know this may come as something of a shock to you, Harry, but your mother and Kitty's mother are two of the sharpest people I have ever met, and when they put their heads together, nothing gets past them. All the things you think you've hidden from them? They know."

Well, Harry certainly hoped not, thinking of how just that morning he'd been on his knees, begging to taste Padma Patil in a girls' toilet. His cheeks went hot.

"I guess my problem is," Harry said, scratching his jaw, "I…I don't know how to approach Uncle Sirius about this."

Uncle Remus smiled and said, "Well, the fact that you're set on asking his permission before asking her is a start, Harry. But I suppose I'll start with a question. Why do you want to marry Catherine?"

Harry closed his eyes, thinking of her lying in the infirmary cot, small and pale and cold, probably one step off death. He felt sick just thinking about it.

"Because I need her," Harry said softly. "I can't…I could never be without her, Uncle Remus. If anything ever happened to her I'd…."

The words died in his throat and he felt Uncle Remus pressing chocolate into his hand.

"So tell him that," Uncle Remus said as Harry opened his eyes and ate the chocolate. "Tell him why you want to marry her, what it means to you. He's been a young man in love, Harry. He'll understand completely."

Harry wasn't so sure, but it was his only way forward. He had to take the plunge one way or another, and this was the best possible starting place.

/-/

Narcissa shook hands with Rufus Scrimgeour, smoothing her skirt as she sat down across from him in her sitting room. Lucius was out at a luncheon for something they gave money to, and something Narcissa said she'd been too ill to attend. She didn't want him bungling this, knowing that Draco's future depended on it.

"Thank you for seeing me, Minister," she said, smiling. "Considering how busy you are, I am most grateful you were available to see me in my own home."

"It is nothing, Madam Malfoy," he said, bowing his head slightly. "A pleasure to see you, as always. You said you had several things you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Yes," she said, and she began with issues of funding for the work and research of Dorcas Prewett and Lily Potter, which were pet projects of hers. Not because she was especially interested in Creatures or their rights and well-being, but because she knew which way the wind was blowing, understood the tides of popular opinion, and knew adding her name to Sirius's on any donor's list was a positive thing for all involved.

"Well, I certainly think that's reasonable," Scrimgeour said with a tight smile. "I'll have someone in touch shortly about the banquet. Was there anything else?"

Narcissa closed her file and said, "Now you mention it, I wonder, has my son applied for a position in your office? Only, he doesn't share as much with his mother anymore, and I want to be certain he's seeing to his future. I know he always did wish to work in the Minister's office."

Scrimgeour's expression softened, and she knew she'd taken the right angle. He smiled softly and said, "Yes, Madam. And I will say, he's top of the list of those being considered for the moment. I hope that gives you comfort."

"Indeed it does," she said, smiling and placing her hand delicately on her breast, knowing the feminine gesture would go a long way.

She saw him out with a small feeling of triumph. If Draco hadn't been a shoe-in before, he was now.

/-/

Harry rubbed his hands on his sleeves to dry them before knocking on Uncle Sirius's door. His throat was tight and his whole body felt cold, but he heard the voice telling him to enter and he knew he couldn't turn and bolt now, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Uncle Sirius was sitting at his desk, frowning at a letter from someone at St. Mungo's, probably something to do with a charitable donation he'd made. He looked up and saw Harry and his face softened. It didn't brighten as it would have done before Harry had started dating Catherine, but Harry would take what he could get.

"I…I wanted to talk with you about something," Harry said, rubbing his hands on his sleeves again, feeling suddenly sick. "It's…it's something very important and I…."

He swallowed and hastened to comply when Uncle Sirius motion for him to sit.

The two stared at each other across the desk for seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes and the longer he sat there the more Harry felt he should have seen Padma first. This would have been so much easier on a dose of Bliss.

"Well?" Uncle Sirius said, frowning slightly. "Spit it out, Harry."

The words rolled off Harry's tongue before he could filter them.

"I want to marry your daughter."

/-/

The sixth year Prefects sat together in a room, having just been informed of what the professors were looking for in a Head Boy and Girl. Rolland looked around at his peers, sizing them up, determining the strength of the competition.

Howard in Ravenclaw, Zacharias in Hufflepuff, and Colin Creevey in Gryffindor. Not the stiffest competition, but Rolland knew enough to be worried about Colin Creevey. Not because he thought Colin was such a great candidate, but because he was a good friend of Catherine Black, and anyone who knew anything about Hogwarts knew Catherine Black had the faculty wrapped around her little finger.

She sat back lazily in her chair and said, "Rhea, you'll be Head Girl."

Her cousin, Adrasteia, stiffened in her own chair, nostrils flaring at the insinuation she was not getting a shot.

"Not you?" Rolland asked softly, smiling at her. He saw Zacharias narrow his eyes at the obvious ploy to flatter Catherine, but he wasn't bothered.

"Merlin, no," she sighed, closing her eyes. "That would be terribly boring. Rhea would be wonderful at it. And I expect you'll be Head Boy, Harper. If there's nothing else, I'm leaving. I've got a commitment to keep."

She sauntered out of the room and Rolland's lips twitched, knowing that whether she realized it or not, she'd just given her endorsement to him, and he'd all but been given the badge.

/-/

Uncle Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, nodding slowly. He opened his eyes and said, "Right. You want to marry Catherine. I…. Right."

Realizing he needed to make his case quickly, before Uncle Sirius made up his mind one way or another, Harry said quickly, "I've been thinking about it a long time, Uncle Sirius. I've got plans for after graduation. A scout from Falmouth Falcons said he wants to put me in the squad and a couple of other teams have expressed interest.

"I've got housing prospects, so you don't have to release anything to us. I'm about to close on a place in the Midlands, big enough for us, and a family if we wanted it someday. I've got a ring. I've…." He swallowed. "Please."

Uncle Sirius blinked, and Harry saw him bite the inside of his cheek. Harry realized the case may not be going in his favor, and Harry quickly said what Uncle Remus had advised.

"Please, I need to marry her," he said urgently. "When she…. When she's not with me, I'm not as happy. I need to have her, to be with her, to spend my life with her. When I thought I was going to lose her, I…. I'm begging you, as someone who knows I don't hold any of the cards without your say, knowing you're the world to her and she's the world to me. I wouldn't know who I was without her, and I've arranged my whole life around her happiness."

He took a deep breath and waited, feeling a chill down his spine as Uncle Sirius stood, crossing to his window. He looked out at the grounds and then closed his eyes, causing Harry's mouth to go dry. What would he do if the answer was no? How could he respond?

"May I see the ring?" Uncle Sirius asked softly, and Harry pulled out the box, opening it. Uncle Sirius looked at it with a kind of melancholy in his eyes. Finally, he sighed and sat back down, pressing his fingers tight together.

"Harry," he said softly, "that girl is the most special thing in the world. You know that?"

"Yes," Harry said earnestly. It was the one thing he and Uncle Sirius agreed about unequivocally.

"You'd put her happiness ahead of everything?"

"I already do. I'd never stop."

"You would protect my little girl?"

"With my life."

"Alright," he said, pressing his hands on the table. "Right, Harry, if you promise me you don't move in together or have the wedding until after she's graduated, then you'll have my blessing and I'll organize the transfer of her contract."

"Of course," Harry said, feeling his whole body go light. "Of course, I wouldn't dream…. I…. Thank you."

He blinked quickly to keep from looking foolish, and was surprised when Uncle Sirius clapped his shoulder, winked, and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey.

"If you say nothing," Uncle Sirius said softly, "then I say nothing. After all, you're of age. Deal?"

Harry agreed and couldn't stop smiling as his teacher poured them both a drink.

 **A/N: So, the future marches closer and Sirius gives his blessing.**

 **Review Prompt: How relieved will Severus be to be shot of the contract?**

 **Q &A:**

 **This isn't really a question, but concern has been expressed that I'm rewarding someone for cheap attempts to get the bonus chapters. I'm not caving. I made a promise, and I believe in sticking to it. On the other hand, I do have every intention of making an announcement (I was going to wait to for the end of the bonus chapters earned, but I can make it now), that from this week forward, reviews must have at least a word to count, so you've got to type multiple letters in a sensible way. While I appreciate the creativity, you can write, "good chapter" just as easily. And at least that makes sense to people who go back and read reviews – which some of you do.**

 **Thanks for the patience, and I hope no one objects to my holding to my agreement here. I mean, who's going to argue with bonus chapters?**

 **I'm not.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	111. Diving Deep

**A/N: Here's Bonus 7! I'll probably get all the earned bonuses up tonight before bed, as I'm watching the F1 race and posting as I watch.**

 **-C**

Demelza always struggled to revise while Quidditch was in session, but she could feel the impending exams coming like a wave. Persephone Wood sat with her, watching their housemates up the lawn huddling by a tree. Demelza wasn't exactly jealous of Ourania Prewett and Caroline Black, but more from effort than anything else. She'd never admitted it to Persephone, but she thought Damon was very attractive, and Demelza didn't think it was fair he was wrapped around Caroline's finger without much effort.

In fact, Damon was laying down with his head in Caroline's lap as she chattered happily to Ourania about something. Demelza wondered if he was really happy like Caroline Black's loyal pet, and whether he wouldn't maybe be happier with someone else.

Like, say, Demelza.

"I don't think I understand this bit at all," Persephone said solemnly.

"What bit?" Demelza said, looking away from the trio by the tree, feeling she'd somehow been caught at something, even though Persephone wasn't looking up, but down at her book.

"These, erm, elektikaty things. I mean, what does it even do?"

"Electricity," Demelza corrected, laying down on the grass and closing her eyes as she tried to explain – for what felt like the hundredth time – what the deal really was with electricity.

As she closed her eyes and spoke, she played over in her mind what she'd walked in on the night before when she couldn't sleep and went down to the common room to study quietly. It hadn't been empty, but Caroline and Damon had been there, talking about something. Or rather, Caroline had been speaking lowly, in a kind of a whisper, and Damon was eagerly muttering his agreement. Damon had been in one of the armchairs, Caroline on his lap, and their foreheads had been pressed together.

Demelza could recall perfectly the adoration in Damon's eyes as he looked up at Caroline, and she wondered what it would feel like to be looked at like that. And then…then Caroline said something, and Damon eagerly leaned forward to kiss her.

Demelza opened her eyes again, not wanting to remember watching them kiss. It had been interesting to see, enlightening in a way, but seeing someone one fancied kissing someone else was never anything less than painful.

"Are you okay?" Persephone asked, sitting up slightly and frowning. "You look flushed."

"M'fine," Demelza lied.

"But…"

"Don't," Demelza said sternly. "Just don't. I'm fine."

Persephone relented, but Demelza had to struggle not to look over to the tree. She knew what Persephone would say, should she know what Demelza was really thinking. She knew the encouragement would be she shouldn't let boys ruin her schoolwork, because if she couldn't keep up her grades she couldn't keep on with Quidditch, and nothing was more important than Quidditch. And nothing was more important to either Persephone or Demelza than Quidditch.

"Okay, I hate to ask," Persephone said sheepishly. "But one more time? I really don't know if I can get this elektikaty thing."

"Electricity," Demelza corrected automatically, before sighing, sitting up, and going through it all again.

/-/

Harry had to work hard to get Rhea, Luna, and Ginny all together without Catherine, but Padma managed to work it out. Catherine wouldn't think twice or ask. She wouldn't imagine what Harry had to do for Padma – without Bliss – to organize her being preoccupied, but it would be worth it, he told himself. Because the proposal had to be perfect.

Because Catherine was perfect.

"Romantic," Ginny said firmly, sternly. "It has to be romantic."

Luna nodded as she and Rhea looked at the ring from a variety of angles.

"Something to do with nature," she said. "Nothing's more romantic than nature."

"Moonlight?" Rhea suggested. "Sunrises, sunsets and moonlight. Those are instant mood-setters, and with moonlight you're less likely to be interrupted."

That sounded reasonable to Harry, who was taking eager notes, nodding, agreeing with everything. Nothing they were saying would be too hard to work in with anything else, which he was grateful about.

"Excellent," he said after his guaranteed hour was up. "Thank you. I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when it's done."

"Naturally," Ginny said with a smirk and a wink, and Harry felt his nerves all over again, and he felt sick to his stomach. Too bad he couldn't just plan and propose on Bliss. But Padma would never agree to it.

/-/

Ron didn't understand why Harry wasn't willing to have a drink with them, especially knowing that he was going to sneak out with Catherine again in the night, but Neville said to leave it, so Ron relented and sat on the stoop with Neville, sharing a bottle of firewhiskey.

"What's eating at him?" Ron asked softly, lowering his voice so Harry couldn't hear as they watched him pace, every half hour or so stopping his pacing to rush into the toilet and vomit.

"Anxiety," Neville said softly.

"Why? NEWTs? They can't be that bad."

Neville smiled bitterly, took a drink of firewhiskey, grimaced, and then passed the bottle back to Ron.

"What Harry's gearing up for is a million times scarier than NEWTs, Ron."

Ron couldn't even begin to imagine, so he just shook his head, took another drink of the burning, spicy, warm fluid and silently wished his friend luck. He passed the bottle to Neville again.

"It'll be weird, won't it?"

"What?" Neville asked before taking a drink.

"Not being here next year."

He scratched his cheek. He wasn't worried about NEWTs because Fred and George had already offered him a job, with the promise of co-running a branch if he proved he had a head for the business. But that meant he'd work long hours every day, with only Sundays off, and he'd not even begun to think about where he would live and how often he might be able to have a pint with friends.

"I won't even be in England next year," Neville said, frowning slightly. "Professor Sprout got me a research position, pending my NEWTs. I'll be in Gibraltar. I wanted the one in the Amazon, but Mum threw a fit."

Ron hummed his understanding, having a mother who also threw fits over that sort of thing, and the two boys continued their drinking in silence, not ready to really talk about the future.

/-/

Catherine slipped her hand into Harry's, walking out on the grounds, enjoying the moon and the stars. He said he had something special planned, that he'd found a place in the forest he wanted to show her, and Catherine had agreed. They'd spent so little time there, and it seemed like a perfect way to help send him off from his last year with a bang.

And if it was the right kind of spot, she thought with a little private smirk, she might even seduce him in the forest. She'd love to have him on his knees, devouring her in the middle of the one place every student knew was utterly forbidden. Their very first out-of-bounds place, and possibly their very last.

It was almost poetic.

"How deep in is this spot?" she asked as they reached the treeline.

"Not too far," he said, glancing over his shoulder to be sure they hadn't been followed. "I promise."

Catherine kissed his jaw before they began into the forest proper, and she stepped over roots, carefully lighting their path as he guided her along. She hoped it wasn't entirely on the path, or it wasn't a very good sneak, but she said nothing. Harry had obviously put a lot of thought into whatever was happening, and while she'd been worshipping Padma earlier that afternoon, Padma had ordered her to be patient with Harry today. He was under a lot of stress from NEWTs and the future, Padma had said. He'd been a very good boy, Padma had said, and he deserved Catherine's patience.

That seemed reasonable to Catherine, who felt a small stab of some kind of longing or regret that she had no Bliss in her system, and she didn't know when she'd next have a chance to either have the Bliss or taste Padma. The two things were entwined inextricably in her brain, and sometimes she didn't even get a pill, and she didn't mind anymore. She still did as she was told, still eagerly showed Padma how important it was to please her.

It was so important to please her, and as Padma said, she needed to be patient with Harry tonight. So Catherine serenely walked through the forest with him, smiling to herself at the thought of how pleased Padma would be when she told her how patient she'd been.

She might even get a reward.

/-/

Rhea sat up with Luna in their dormitory, revising, but her mind kept slipping to Catherine, who was about to get the surprise of her life.

"D'you think she'll say yes?" Rhea whispered to Luna.

"Of course she'll say yes," Luna said. "They love each other."

Rhea wasn't sure anything between those two was so simple, but she supposed Luna was usually right about things, so she tried to relax.

/-/

Harry announced their arrival in the clearing, where he could see the stars, and pulled her out the center, pointing out the constellations that were visible, and the moon looking like it was being cradled by the treetops.

"It's nice," she said, her eyes looking up at the sky for a long moment. She began looking around the clearing, and Harry knew she was thinking of the best place to try to seduce him, but he was already on a knee, pulling at his pocket.

Catherine wasn't looking at him, though. Her eyes went wide and she whipped out her wand.

"What?" he asked, pulling out his wand instead of the box. "What is it?"

"I thought I saw something," she said softly, "but it's going to sound mad."

"Try me," he said, keeping his own voice low. The forest was full of all manner of things that would happily devour them. He could feel his heartbeat in his ear.

"It looked like…a blanket on the ground, just at the edge of the trees."

/-/

Aeson's eyes were heavy as he tried to run through what he wanted the Dueling Club tournament to look like. They'd already done the preliminary rounds, but he knew exactly how he wanted the final to look. He would be against Caroline, and it would be a good battle. Even in fantasy, he knew his cousin's methods and respected them enough to make it a good battle.

But he would win, he knew. It just had to be that way. Aeson couldn't fathom any way that he wouldn't face Caroline in the final, and thus that he wouldn't win. Because he knew in the depth of his gut that he was the better duelist, and he would have the opportunity to prove it in front of everyone. It just had to be that way.

/-/

Lethifold.

Harry saw it to, and he didn't bother wondering how it got there. He only knew that he had to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He hadn't ever tried a Patronus Charm before, but he'd been studying it for his NEWTs, just the theory, as his special project.

He knew he needed a happy memory, the happiest one he could think of, and he closed his eyes, recalling the night in the hotel room in Brighton, the very first time he was inside Catherine, before Padma, before the Bliss, before anything but how much he loved her and how badly he wanted her, and how somehow she felt the same.

He focused all his thoughts and energy on this, and he said the incantation as clearly and strongly as he could.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

From his wand shot not a wisp or shield as he had read was common with "successful" first efforts, but a fully formed big cat, a tiger from the looks of it. Catherine watched the shining feline with wide, impressed eyes, and it chased off the lethifold before circling back to him, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Female, he knew without thinking. It was a female tiger, strong and powerful, beautiful and dangerous. He looked at Catherine and said, breathless and determined, "C'mon. Let's be gone when it gets back."

/-/

Astoria curled up with Draco in the common room, looking over his shoulder to see the book he was reading. She knew it would be for his exams, and he was taking them very seriously in is desire to get a good start at the Ministry when he graduated. But Astoria also knew he was working too hard, not sleeping or relaxing nearly as much as he should. He had lost a bit of weight this term, and was starting to look like the walking dead.

"Is it interesting?" she asked, and he hummed his confirmation of its interest. She sighed wishing he'd said no. Still, she turned to him and decided to get the best out of it that she could. She leaned in to his ear, letting her breath tickle the sensitive skin for a moment before she whispered, "Is it more interesting than me?"

Draco's eyebrows twitched upward, and he turned, about to argue that they both had a lot of revision to do, but she pressed her finger to his lips, and his eyes warmed, his body turning toward her, the book slipping out of his hand. If it noticed that it hit the ground, he made no sign. Instead, he gently pressed his mouth to hers.

Although Astoria believed strongly in the strict rules of pureblood courtship, not because of blood status but because of the fruits of propriety, she couldn't help feeling as he kissed her that for once they could set those rules aside and she could find out just how much Draco wanted her. She wondered if he had dreams about her like her dreams about him, and she wondered if there would ever come a day where his father truly accepted her as Draco's choice.

She would never be Catherine Black, but she supposed if that was her worst sin, it could always be forgiven, even by a man like Lucius Malfoy.

"No," he whispered against her lips.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing is more interesting than you," he sighed, and she smiled, kissing him again.

/-/

Harry sat down with Catherine in the Hog's Head, where the barkeep gave them drinks without bothering to ask if they were both seventeen. The glasses and bottles were never especially clean-looking, but after their fright in the forest, neither of them cared.

"That's the last time I take advice from Ginny," Harry muttered, mostly to himself, but Catherine perked up.

"Advice from Ginny?" she said, puzzled. "Advice on what? Why would you go to Ginny about something instead of me?"

She was affronted, he realized, horrified, and he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. But then, he closed his eyes he could almost hear Padma in his ear, urging his hunger forward almost a dozen times with these same words, over and over.

 _A good mouth is an open mouth. An open mouth is a happy mouth. An active tongue is a happy tongue._

The words flowed off his tongue, and he didn't try to stop them. He felt a strange stab of pride and arousal as he let them go.

"I couldn't ask you, Cat, because I needed advice on how to please you, to make you happy."

She looked amused, and he knew she was about to say Padma gave him constant advice on how to please her, and he flushed, recalling how easy it was to pleasure her, how pleasant it was, how good it tasted.

He needed to focus, to keep his tongue active and happy.

"The forest was kind of her idea. Anyway, it didn't turn out, but I asked you out there because I wanted…I wanted the right place. Place is supposed to be important."

"Place for what?" she asked, her hand resting on his knee.

His breath caught and he thought perhaps he should book them a room at the Three Broomsticks and show her how active his tongue could be, how open his mouth could be.

After, he reminded himself, after he did what needed to be done.

"For asking you to marry me," he said, pulling out the ring, sliding it across the table.

She opened the little box with perfect, delicate fingers and he wanted to kiss each finger, to express his desire for her, and for her to accept.

"Wow," she said, pulling it out of the box. "It's gorgeous."

"Took me ages with the guy to figure out something you'd love," Harry said, moving closer, trying to get her to look him in the eye. It was so hard to tell what she was thinking when she wasn't looking at him. "Cat, I can't imagine not spending the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, please?"

She finally looked up at him, an amused expression on her face, and he held his breath, so anxious he thought he might sick up on the table. In truth, someone had certainly already done to this table at least once in the last month.

"Harry, you're so silly," she said, almost laughing. "Of course I'll marry you! I suppose we're waiting until I graduate, but do you mind if I start planning the wedding?"

He sighed with relief, kissed her lips shortly, and said, "Cat, you can do anything you'd like. You can have anything."

She slipped the ring on her finger and he told her all about the place he'd bought in England, told her how he imagined their life together, and she listened, pleasantly, with her head on his shoulder.

For a few hours, it was just the two of them in a whole world. No other voices or thoughts came between.

 **A/N: So, Plan A was bust, Plan B was successful, and Draco and Astoria are enjoying their new status as courting.**

 **Review Prompt: Thumbs up or thumbs down on the proposal?**

 **Q &A: Please ask questions! My store of question to answer is empty!**

 **-C**


	112. The Draw

**A/N: Bonus Chapter 8!**

 **-C**

Blaise found the whole of his time at Hogwarts to have been something of a waste, but he tried not to think of it that way in entirety. After all, if he hadn't gone to Hogwarts, he would never have crossed paths with Ginny, and his friendship with Draco would not be what it was.

Ginny was revising with him in the library. She'd been babbling the whole way there about Potter's proposal to the eldest Black, and how beautiful the ring was and what a power couple they would be, and he wondered if she was dropping hints or just gossiping. He hoped it was the latter.

He watched her as she leaned over her books and he decided he liked her best this way, intensely focused, silent. His eyes traced the freckles on her face, down her neck, and his imagination filled in the ones he knew were under her blouse, down her torso. He closed his eyes, recalling what it felt like to feel her, skin on skin, and he wondered where the future would take them.

"How often do you want me to visit?" he asked softly, brushing her fingertips.

Ginny blinked, looking up at him, clearly startled that he'd spoken, and trying to process the question.

"Visit?" she said, feeling the word in her mouth. "Oh, visit. Right. Well, how often do you want to visit? There's the monthly Hogsmeade visits."

He thought of seeing her once a month and he knew he technically had the patience. It would certainly make their time together sweeter, but he also didn't know if he truly had that level of patience.

"We could try that," he said, swallowing his anxiety and desires. "If we need to, we can always adjust it. You'll be very busy next year, I am sure."

She hummed, smiling at him, and he decided he'd chosen the right words. All he had to do was find a way to convince her on his visits it would be worth her while to ask him to come more often. Blaise thought that would be well within his skill set.

They revised for several hours, and he walked her back toward Gryffindor Tower. She always separated from him on the floor before the entrance, taking the secrets of her House very seriously.

Blaise had no such qualms, and had even considered inviting her into his dormitory while others would be out, enjoying her body a few more times before summer came. He might even be able to sell it as a quiet place to study, then coax her into bed. If he played it right, it might become a regular part of their end-of-year routine before and after exams.

He kissed her hand when she said it was time for him to part from her, and he then kissed the corner of her mouth.

"I'll see you at lunch," he said, wishing she would come sit at his table instead of with her stupid friends.

She winked and walked away.

/-/

At the beginning of the Dueling Competition final rounds, Padma circled the crowd, making sure that the major duels were drawing most of the attention, including Harry's attention and Professor Black's attention. Then she caught Catherine's eye and gave a small gesture she knew the girl would recognize she was supposed to follow. Catherine glanced up at the stage briefly at her sister, who was about to begin a duel, and then she followed without hesitation, which pleased Padma.

In the toilet, Padma accepted a kiss from Catherine, who was ready to drop to her knees without preamble.

"That's a very pretty ring, my dear," Padma said, caressing Catherine's neck, signaling she should stay on her feet. "I expect you to come when you're called next year."

"Of course," Catherine breathed reverently.

"That's a good girl," Padma said, smirking. Harry already had his marching orders, and he'd said much the same. He probably didn't realize yet just how often he would get those orders, but he would be learning soon enough, just as soon as he moved in to his new place. "Now, why don't you undress."

"Undress?" she said, slightly confused. "But…anyone could walk in."

"That doesn't concern you, does it?" Padma said, petting her hair, pulling out a Bliss.

"It doesn't?" Catherine said, trying to wrap her brain around that. She held out her tongue to accept the half dose and sucked on Padma's fingers lovingly when she took the dose, before swallowing it. "It…doesn't," she said, nodding slowly.

"That's right," Padma said, smiling. "It doesn't bother you at all."

Catherine nodded, shedding her robes and unbuttoning her blouse briskly. Padma leaned back against the wall, enjoying the knowledge that Catherine didn't know she'd locked the door, and was fully convinced that anyone could walk in and still wasn't concerned as she stripped for Padma. This, Padma thought, was true power.

"Much better, isn't it?" Padma sighed, spreading her legs slightly as she sat on the sink. "To be naked."

"Yes," Catherine sighed, positioning herself so that she could best bury her head between Padma's thighs. "Much better."

Padma closed her eyes and enjoyed the fruits of her labor.

/-/

Delia gave her orders to the elf about what was to be done to prepare for the children coming home, and she started to make a list in her study. Rabastan came in after several hours of working on his miniatures and unrolled his sleeves.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Preparations for when our daughter becomes Head Girl," she said primly. "One must be prepared. We couldn't not have celebrations."

She felt slightly affronted when her husband laughed, but he shook his head and said, "Delia, my love, Adra is not going to be Head Girl. She's up against Catherine and the Prewett girl. You know the teachers vote on these things."

"Your niece is a delinquent," Delia sniffed, "no matter how well-connected."

"You know as well as I that counts for nothing," he said, waving his hand. "And the Prewett girl is remarkably well-behaved, and beloved by all her teachers from the sound of things. Make your preparations if you must, but don't be too disappointed when you don't have to use them."

Delia sniffed again, deciding she would prove him wrong by being fully prepared. One had to take steps, after all, to expect results.

/-/

When Catherine was fully dosed up, Padma went back into the Great Hall to catch Harry's attention, and he followed eagerly, not even glancing up at whoever was on the stage. She'd upped his dosage recently, noticing that he was taking longer to respond to certain suggestions. She gave him his dose right off the bat and he stood, his breathing growing heavy as he anticipated instruction.

"You're getting hard, aren't you?" she said teasingly. He nodded. He struggled to speak sometimes with the new doses, but he would get used to the extra euphoria soon enough. She unbuttoned her own blouse, revealing her already-bare breasts. His nostrils flared. "Suckle," she said, and he did without question, nuzzling and suckling and more or less worshipping her breasts. "That's good," she said, petting his wild hair. "Very, very good, Harry. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you?" He moaned his agreement around her nipple, which was especially pleasant.

Padma leaned her head back and enjoyed the sensation until she told him he could touch himself. She heard his zipper almost instantly, feeling the urgency of his posture increase.

She began feeding him a steady stream of encouragement, suggested visuals, a few reinforcements, reminders that he was always supposed to come when he was called, and the reminder that he belonged to Catherine.

When she allowed him to remove his mouth from her breasts after he came, she fed him the second half of the dose and he shivered slightly as it set in. She kissed his stubbled cheek and caressed his jaw. It wasn't pleasant for her, but she knew it would do wonders for him.

"Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to Catherine," he gasped.

"And?"

He hesitated, not knowing what this prompt was yet. He was in the best position to be eager to learn.

"You both belong to…?"

"You," he breathed without hesitation. "We belong to you."

"That's a very good boy," she said, stroking his hair and gently pulling his head between her thighs. She reinforced those mantras as he licked, as long as she had the spare breath to do so. She knew his mind was soaking them up just as eagerly as his tongue was moving, because he knew an active tongue was a happy tongue. She continually stroked his hair, like a pet or a child being soothed, just as her steady stream of words and the Bliss soothed him into not thinking very hard about what was being put into his head. Just like with a horse, she thought, amused, when she squeezed her thighs around his head he began to work harder and faster.

/-/

Rolland could have gone to the Dueling finals, but none of his immediate friends were going to be in it, and he certainly had plenty of revising to do before exams began. He'd spent a lot of time wondering what Catherine Black was doing about her exams, as she never seemed to be revising, but when he made the mistake of mentioning this once in earshot of Adrasteia, she had a very bitter response.

"Kitty doesn't need to revise," she said stiffly. "She's got unnatural talent, and revising is considered a waste of her time and beneath her."

Rolland couldn't imagine what it would be like, to be that privileged, to have everything you wanted fall in your lap whenever you snapped your fingers, but he thought it must be nice, to have that much power. As much as he didn't like working with Adrasteia, he could understand her bitterness completely.

He preferred to take advantage of it as much as he could, although with the revising he wasn't sure how he could turn it to his advantage. Someday, though, he mused, he might be able to think of something.

/-/

Harry returned to the Dueling semi-finals feeling like he was walking on a cloud. Perhaps it was his imagination, but every time he had a dose of Bliss it seemed like his experiences were better and better. If Neville had noticed he was gone, he didn't say, and Harry ran through his time in the toilets with Padma over and over again thinking of some of the things she'd said.

He belonged to Catherine. He'd known instinctively for some time, and when Padma started telling him, reminding him of it, it only made perfect sense. He hadn't thought until today that he and Catherine belonged to Padma, but it made sense in almost the same way. Like something he'd known in his soul but simply hadn't given thought to.

Part of him ached to ask her to go back to the toilets, to taste her again, or to find Catherine and tempt her into letting him taste her, but Caroline was in this semi-final round, and he knew how much Catherine wanted to watch her little sister.

He sighed, feeling the buzz through his system as Caroline put up a beautiful performance, beating whoever she was up against.

She would be in the final, he realized, and he overheard someone nearby marveling Aeson Lestrange and Caroline Black would be the final round. Harry was a bit bemused as well, thinking to himself what a great match-up it would be.

When it was over, he mused, perhaps he could talk Padma into a threesome somewhere. Anywhere, really. He felt like the Bliss would run through him forever, and maybe if it started wearing off, Padma would give him more.

He didn't know why he'd never thought of that before.

/-/

Demelza felt a flash of annoyance as she saw Caroline Black scramble off the stage for her break and kiss Damon Prewett in full view of everyone, but she supposed that was just the way of things.

After all, he was never hers, and if Caroline Black got her way – which she always seemed to do – he never would be.

/-/

Harry struggled to focus on the duel, thinking repeatedly of how much he loved Catherine, how much he wanted to show her how he loved her, but she was watching the duel with rapt attention as her sister and cousin took their places. He turned his attention to Caroline, focusing his breathing, feeling the rush of euphoria through him, a kind of oneness. He caught Padma's eye across the Hall and stared at her, watching her eat a bar of chocolate nonchalantly. Every piece she put in her mouth refocused his attention on her, the way she licked her fingers while watching him. He could hear his heartbeat in his ear, and if he thought he'd been spent while she was guiding him through his pleasure, he'd been wrong. Somehow on the full dose he found himself becoming increasingly arouse, staring at Padma just eating a chocolate bar. He felt a small urge to look over at Catherine to see if her attention was still so tight on the duel, unlike his own, but every time he thought to look away, Padma would put another piece in her mouth, lingering with her fingers in and on her lips.

He'd never really tasted her lips, had he? He couldn't remember, but suddenly he wanted to, badly. Would Catherine like that? Would Padma? If they wanted him to, he knew he would do it, without even having to wonder.

/-/

Ron was excited and slightly terrified as they left the Great Hall, everyone in a bit of a daze.

"I didn't even know there were ties in duels," Neville said, stunned.

"Well, to be fair," Ron said, grinning, "the only way for one of them to win would have been escalation, and that would have been dangerous or illegal or both."

He'd seen spells from third year students he hadn't learned in seven years of school, and he wondered what he'd spent all his time on if they could do such things and he was going to work in a joke shop.

"Chess?" Neville asked mildly as they made their way toward Gryffindor Tower.

Ron eagerly agreed.

/-/

Catherine went into her dormitory, annoyed to be followed by Ryana, who was still buzzing from watching the duel. But Catherine knew her friend's buzz couldn't possibly begin to compare with what was still going from the Bliss in her system. She wanted more, but knew better than to ask. And anyway, she could still taste Padma on her tongue, and that was like lasting Bliss.

"Aren't you going to study?" Ryana asked, pulling out her books. "We can revise together. You can help me with Potions."

"There's nothing in the world I could do at this point to help you pass Potions, pet," Catherine said, the word rolling off her tongue, although she hadn't initially meant to say it. It felt strangely right, and Ryana didn't react negatively to it – in fact she didn't react to it at all.

She closed her eyes as Ryana said something about how perhaps it might do Catherine some good, organizing her thoughts or some such rubbish.

Catherine simply shooed Ryana away and said, "I'm sure Rhea and Luna will be happy to help you. I've got better things to do."

When the door closed behind Ryana, Catherine didn't bother waving her wand to lock it before hastily undressing and touching herself, delighting in the enhanced enjoyment from Bliss and the mantras Padma had instilled in her earlier that day.

/-/

Rhea wasn't surprised when Ryana joined them alone in the library, Catherine apparently brushing her off.

"I think she was taking another nap," Ryana said breezily. "She and Harry have obviously been keeping each other busy."

Rhea felt her face go hot at the suggestion, and she stammered there was no need to say such things, but Colin, who had squeezed between Rhea and Luna, said, "We're all basically adults, Rhea. And we all know exactly why Catherine's tired all the time. Why beat around the bush?"

Still, Rhea thought it was a bit crass, but she didn't want to say so to Colin, especially when he was always so sweet to her. Ginny gave her a wink when Colin shifted so his arm was essentially around Rhea's waist as he looked over her shoulder at her Herbology book.

"This is all way beyond me," he said, practically in her ear.

Rhea mumbled it really wasn't so bad. She knew he was looking for an excuse for her to tutor him at the end of the year, and according to Ginny, Rhea might be able to get his attention for much, much longer if things went well.

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Jason wasn't sure, but he thought he might be, once again, the only one who noticed something was very strange about his sister. He tried mentioning it to Harry once, but he'd been evasive and dismissive. Jason had been tempted to follow them, to see what they were up to, but it seemed like too dangerous of a choice if Catherine caught him.

Now, though, knowing Catherine's contract was being shifted to Harry, that Professor Snape would no longer be able to inform their father about her misbehavior, Jason was growing increasingly concerned. Maybe Harry was honest and it was over nothing, but to Jason it didn't feel like nothing. To him it felt like his sister was probably once again biting off more than she could chew, as was her wont.

 **A/N: So, Harry takes to his increased dosage, Catherine continues to take well to programming, and Jason is restless.**

 **Review Prompt: How does one tie in a duel?**

 **Q &A: Ask me anything!**

 **-C**


	113. Horizons

**A/N: Bonus 9! Warning, this may not be my best editing, as I'm well past my bedtime.**

 **-C**

Jimmy's exams started Tuesday morning. He sat down in the Ancient Runes classroom with Jason, Natalie, and Cora, and he noticed Brontes Lestrange sitting on the other side of Cora. He felt a stab of jealousy, but he tried to ignore it when Kevin Whitby and Laura Madley came in and sat down as well. Jimmy rubbed his eyes, wishing exams were over for him, not just beginning.

Of course, he knew the next year would be worse. He understood OWL year was the beginning of the truly painful exam years, but he also knew he would have great support from his friends.

Professor Babbling welcomed them, closing the door. Jimmy didn't count who all was there, but if anyone had been late, the closed door would tell them that they'd missed their chance. The exam was in session, and Professor Babbling didn't let latecomers take exams.

Quills were checked individually and Jimmy began bouncing his leg slightly under his desk, the motion keeping him from feeling quite as sick to his stomach. He still had a few Runes he didn't recognize very well, mixing up with other Runes, and he was always concerned about how shoddy his translations were, rough and bumpy, without the finesse of his friends' work.

"Very well," Professor Babbling said after checking the last quill for spells that would aid cheaters. Most students were smart enough not to try that, but a few were caught every year, so it had to be done. "Begin."

Jimmy couldn't help but grin, as always, as the blank parchment in front of him had words forming with ink that had previously not been on the sheet. It filled with Runes on one side, English words on the other. Two separate passages, each needing to be translated. It was, potentially, Jimmy's worst nightmare.

He could feel his throat gone dry, and he glanced over toward his friends, who were all well-focused, right to work. Natalie already had her quill to parchment, writing the first translation. Jimmy took a deep breath and focused first on writing his name at the top. Once he couldn't put it off any longer, he carefully worked through the runic passage, attempting to do the best translation of his life. He had a simple enough time translating from English to Runes, but Runes to English was a terrible mess.

The minutes ticked away and he managed to get a decent translation on paper, he thought, and then he began smoothing the edges, adding the stylistic points and tweaking the placement of words to have a better-feeling translation.

He wanted more time, of course, but he ran out before he felt his translations were smooth. They had to hand in their papers, gather up their things, and walk down to breakfast, Jimmy slipping his hand into Cora's as they went.

"Starving," he sighed, and she hummed her agreement as Natalie and Jason walked together, arguing about a specific part of the translation.

Jimmy was already exhausted, and he and Cora weren't done for the day. After lunch they had their Arithmancy exam, and Brontes Lestrange would be at that, as well. Jimmy wasn't fully sure why he was in Arithmancy, although he did enjoy it, except that he was trying to impress Cora by signing up for the same electives that she had signed up for.

"It'll be a long day," she said loftily, "but it will get better."

Jimmy supposed it had to, but he didn't feel it was fair to put the fourth year Arithmancy and Ancient Runes exams on the same day, especially when so many students took both courses. He thought about filing a protest, but he knew it had something to do with the packed schedules of certain professors in fitting in all the exams they had to give, and making it so all students could take all the exams they needed, without needing to be in two places at once.

He settled in at lunch and decided to enjoy his sandwich, because if he was going to have an exam-packed day, he could at least enjoy a sandwich.

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Rose spent her Tuesday lunchtime taking advantage of advice Ourania and Caroline had given her about the Charms exam, because directly after lunch she had to wait in line outside of Professor Flitwick's classroom, waiting anxiously for her turn to show that she knew how to do all of the different charms expected of them to learn. She knew Cheering Charms would be on the exam, partly because Professor Flitwick had stressed how important they were, and partly because all three of her Gryffindor friends had stressed how important they were.

Professor Flitwick always had a core spell or two every student had to perform, and he changed the rest of the list depending on the student and on what he knew that student's friends from other classes had done. Rose knew which spells she shouldn't expect, but she knew there was still an incredibly long list of spells she would have to be prepared for.

When she checked her watch and saw it was time to head that way, she felt her stomach flipping and flopping and doing a samba as she waited in line, and Rose tried to take deep breaths as she waited for the first student to be called in. She saw a few students passing on their way to the Arithmancy room, and as Brontes Lestrange passed he caught her eye and he paused.

She must have looked terribly anxious, because he leaned in and said, "You'll do just fine."

One of her classmates – she couldn't guess which – gasped as Brontes walked away, and she heard giggling and whispering, likely because he was the heir in a hideously wealthy family and happened to be handsome. Perhaps, Rose thought, they were also giggling because he hardly ever spoke, much less to non-Slytherins he wasn't related to.

But Rose didn't feel special. He was the cousin of one of her friends, and she couldn't even try to parse that while she was trying to remember how to do the spells she might have to do.

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Third year students had their Astronomy exam on the first Tuesday at midnight. Damon lined up between his sister and his girlfriend, with Rose Zeller slipping on the other side of Ourania and Aeson Lestrange making disparaging sounds as he passed them to line up with his fellow Slytherins. Damon didn't think it was great timing, as he had History of Magic in the morning, and then Herbology after lunch, but they had to fit it in somewhere, and inconvenient for him was probably very convenient for someone else.

They were given their instructions from Professor Sinistra to do a complete star chart from the one given and labeled star on their charts, out to the edges, to the best of their ability in the time given.

Damon had a method for this, something Cora recommended to him that she'd learned from Jason that he'd been told by his father. Do the first constellation completely, then do the major stars of the other constellations out to the edge so all the most important pieces were there, and then it was much easier to place the smaller stars on the chart. Once his sister gave him this recommendation, his second year Astronomy exam went far smoother than the year before, and he was determined to make this system work for him every year forward.

Although he was secretly looking forward to not having to do Astronomy in a couple of years' time. He wouldn't need it to be a journalist, which was his goal.

His work went quickly, but he was very careful with the placement of his constellations. That was the trickiest bit. Without filling in the little stars as he went, he had fewer reference points for the big ones, like filling in chunks of a puzzle at a time, but being required to put them down in the right place the first time instead of being able to move them as you filled things in. Damon wasn't great at puzzles to begin with, so he was being especially careful as he worked.

Once he felt he had the major constellations totally filled in, he began filling in the smaller stars from the top right of the sheet, trying to keep his hand from shaking because he knew that it would smear his work and create incorrectly placed work on his star chart. This was the part of the exam that always made him feel sick to his stomach, but he also knew that his time was running out, and if he didn't finish, well he didn't finish and he had the most important bits down on the page.

He could feel the clock ticking away, although he couldn't hear it, and when he finally heard the time being called, he took deep breaths and felt extreme relief that he could go to bed and start on more suitable exams for his talents in the morning.

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The NEWT Herbology practical consisted of exhibiting proper care for virtually every plant type in Greenhouse 2, as well as showing and explaining to the examiners the specific project each student spent the last two years on.

Hermione's heart was pounding violently as she mulched and watered most of the plants, feeding the carnivorous ones and pruning bushes as necessary, knowing she would have to do the written portion of the exam after lunch. It was nice, in a way, they had OWLs before NEWTs, because she felt much more prepared, going in, for what was expected of her than she had when she was a fifth year.

The examiners were standing by with little clipboards, following students around, watching what they did – and sometimes didn't – do, making frantic notes. The one student who seemed totally composed was Neville, who was clearly in his element. Hermione actually envied her boyfriend's utter grace in gardening, which was something she could not maintain at this high level, much the way her ability to be a graceful potioneer had vanished at the NEWT level.

When she explained her experiment of different soil acidities with Mongolian Biting Turnips (which were a valuable ingredient in some rare potions), she was free to go, and she walked back to the castle, starving, sweating, and shaking slightly as the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. Neville was already waiting for her, beaming and looking perfectly calm and fresh, like he hadn't been playing with dirt for two and a half hours.

"Starved," he said, taking her muddy hand. "How do you feel it went?"

Hermione wanted to be able to share his confidence and say that it went brilliantly, that she was doing perfect with it, but she sighed and said that she supposed it went alright.

He kissed her temple as they entered the Great Hall, and Hermione decided that she could be alright with an Exceeds Expectations, even when she knew what she really wanted was an Outstanding. The sheer fact, she thought as Neville poured her some juice, was that Neville was truly outstanding at Herbology, and if she managed to get an O, then he deserved a whole knew category to be written in at the top for him.

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Sirius rubbed his eyes, accepting another sandwich, as Remus tipped it onto his plate. Severus had the afternoon off, so he had a light lunch and went back to his quarters – probably to take a nap after driving himself into the ground – but Remus and Sirius still had exams to give.

"You've got Brontes, right?" Sirius asked, rubbing his eyes before picking up his sandwich.

"Yeah," Remus said after swallowing the bit of sandwich he'd been chewing. "You've got second years?"

"Gryffindor," Sirius said with a nod. He took a large bite of sandwich and glanced over to Catherine, who was sitting down with a sweaty, muddy Harry. She'd had the whole day off, and looked smooth and immaculate as usual, and Sirius felt a strange mix of pride and fear and the reminder she had a diamond engagement ring on her finger, that the boy she was sitting by was bizarrely the boy she was going to marry after she graduated. Sirius would have to cherish her last year of school, because it was also her last year as his little girl before she was moving out, moving on, outgrowing her doting and adoring father completely.

"What is it?" Remus asked, concerned with the way Sirius was frowning off into space.

"They're growing up," Sirius said softly. "And I still don't really know how I feel."

"You're proud of them," Remus said firmly. "You're proud of all of them, and you know it. Catherine's turned out splendidly despite everything. Jason's been a gentleman since he was born. And Caro's…." Remus cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, maybe she's still got some growing to do, but she's certainly…quite talented."

Sirius's lips twitched as he took another bite of his sandwich. Remus would never admit it out loud, but Sirius knew he was slightly afraid of Caroline. If Sirius wasn't so proud of her, he supposed he might be a bit afraid of her as well.

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Fabian perked up when his wife came home early, and he hurried to greet her at the door like a puppy. She laughed, kissing him when he wrapped his arms around her before she'd even got her scarf off, and she rested her head on his chest. Fabian loved when Dorcas cuddled with him, because it made him feel important and loved.

"Only a little while before the children are back," he said, hinting. "We should make the most of it."

Dorcas snorted. He knew she was looking forward to seeing their children, and he was too, but the one beautiful thing of their all being away at school was that he could make love to his wife any time of day in any room of the house without any concern of being interrupted. And as much as he loved his children, Fabian had to admit to himself that nothing made him feel more important and at peace with the world than making love to his wife.

"Alright," she sighed, scratching her chin. "Alright, love, go ahead and put the kettle on. When I have my tea, we'll make the most of the night, shall we?"

He didn't really want to wait that long, but one thing being married to Dorcas had taught him was that petulance only got him so far, and when she set a boundary, she meant it. Fabian eagerly hurried to put the kettle on, because the sooner she finished with her tea, the sooner he could start seducing her, and the sooner he could hear her cry out his name with the world around him standing still.

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Fourth year Astronomy was Thursday midnight of the first week, and Brontes lined up with the other Slytherins, but just beside his cousin, who was adjusting his telescope while Brontes pulled out quills and ink.

"How have exams been treating you?" Jason asked softly, glancing over Brontes's shoulder at the Slytherins setting up.

"Well enough," Brontes said, "you?"

Jason hummed.

Brontes closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply the cool night air. He had a break in the morning, where Jason and his friends had Herbology. But Brontes would be up for breakfast, out and about, because he knew Rose Zeller had Transfiguration in the morning, and he wanted to watch her prepare. She wasn't the most effusive, emotive person he knew – which would have been a feat, given his cousins and how wild some of their friends were – but he found that he almost enjoyed watching how her posture and expression changed with the stresses of exams. Her beautiful blue eyes were full of concern that she likely didn't need in order to succeed, and he found that he wanted to comfort her. He had largely ignored the silly hissing and giggling of her classmates when he'd encouraged her before her Charms exam, but he had enjoyed seeing that her face had gone just a bit pink as he walked away.

It was silly, and he knew it. But as beautiful as some of his relatives were, he didn't think he'd ever seen someone as beautiful as Rose Zeller. He'd never said so out loud, and he'd never dared to think more on it than the basics of her being a very beautiful, very composed girl, but he thought of her often as he went through his day, and when he didn't have anywhere to be in the morning, he had to allow himself to indulge in seeing her prepare for her exams.

"You will fill in your star charts from the point in the center," Professor Sinistra said over Brontes's musings, and he focused his eyes on his star chart, knowing that next year he wouldn't be given a point to work from. That was the expectation from the OWL exams onward. "You have one hour and a half. You do not have to use all of it. You may begin."

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By Friday morning of the first week of exams, Anthony Goldstein was exhausted. He had his Ancient Runes exam that morning, a merciful break in the afternoon, but he would still have work to do after the weekend's rest. Potions, Astronomy, History, Arithmancy…. And he was terrified enough of Professor Snape. He couldn't imagine the looks the NEWT examiners would give him after his feeble attempts at Potions, but at least he could get a good score on the written portion.

He rubbed his eyes, focusing in on the exam paper in front of him, wishing he never, ever had to translate another Rune again in his life.

 **A/N: So, Harry's last round of exams, Sirius is watching the future, and we're all a bit sentimental.**

 **Review Prompt: Who will be Head Girl and Boy in Catherine's final year?**

 **Q &A: Ask questions!**

 **-C**


	114. Changing of the Guard

**A/N: Bonus 10 for this week!**

 **-C**

Harry felt proud as he sat on the bench at the Gryffindor table for the last time. He not only won the Quidditch Cup in his final year as Captain, but they'd pulled out the House Cup win as well, and the Hall was decorated in scarlet and gold. He watched his friends gossip, but he was looking across to the Hufflepuff where Catherine – his future wife, he thought proudly – was watching him. He liked to think she was proud of him, in spite Hufflepuff not winning the House Cup.

Professor Dumbledore allowing them to eat before the speaking did nothing for Harry, who was too excited to enjoy the food. He was excited this was the end of school, excited to get a life together that Catherine could join when the next year was over, excited to come back and visit her as often as he could manage, sneaking her out, or sneaking in to her in order to be near to her.

"Harry?" Neville said, a smile evident in his voice before Harry turned to look at him. "Could you maybe pass the potatoes, Harry?"

With a hum, Harry passed the potatoes as quickly as possible before looking up toward Catherine again, but she was looking not at him now, but at her food. Harry could still feel a gaze on him, though, and he didn't have to think to turn his eyes toward the Ravenclaw table, where Padma Patil was watching him, one of her perfectly formed eyebrows quirked in a kind of superior amusement that he was used to seeing just before he accepted half a dose of Bliss from her graceful fingers.

Just seeing her look at him, he felt himself growing hard, and he felt his mouth watering. His breathing grew heavy and he knew he had to look away before someone asked him what was wrong, but he couldn't, not until she looked away and broke the contact.

Harry felt very good, even as dessert started to disappear, Professor Dumbledore stood and raised a hand, the whole of the Great Hall falling silent.

"First of all, congratulations to Gryffindor," he said, which led to a roar from the Gryffindor table. He waited for the roar to die down before continuing, "It was a good year from everyone, and I have been very pleased to be here.

"At this time in my life, while I feel that I could continue, I also wish to pursue many other interests for which I have not had as much time as I would like. Knowing the school will be in good hands, I pass it on to Professor McGonagall, and wish her all the best in her administration of it."

The school was in shocked silence for a long moment, with even the professors apart from Professor McGonagall looking around in surprise. Although Harry thought Professor Snape didn't seem very surprised, but that might be because he rarely had anything which surprised him and hadn't formed a face for it, yet.

Questions bloomed in Harry's mind. Who would be the new Deputy Head? Who would teach Transfiguration?

He held them in, though as they did a small recognition of the graduating students, talking about some of the most distinguished students and where they had accepted positions, pending their NEWT scores. Draco had been given a position as a Junior Undersecretary in the Minister's office, which Harry suspected had as much to do with his family as his grades. Hermione had been accepted to a position under Madam Prewett in the Ministry, with funding ready for her to work on legislation regarding and education of house-elves, which Harry hadn't realized with all the chaos his life had been this year.

Harry received a prize for History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he heard some of the younger students whispering that he only got them because the professors were friends of his family. Harry couldn't help thinking if they only knew how up and down his relationship had been with Uncle Sirius in the last few years, they wouldn't suggest such a thing. They would have just assumed it was because he'd earned the prize, which he had. He clapped with everyone else as a final goodbye to Professor Dumbledore, and to Hogwarts as a whole.

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Three weeks after leaving school, Ron locked up after a long day in the shop and met his friends for drinks in London. Harry was absently stirring his drink, as usual, with a small welt on his arm from a Bludger incident in practice – he'd joined Falmouth after intense negotiations with several clubs – and Hermione and Draco were chatting about work, something to do with politics.

"Neville couldn't make it?" Ron asked, scratching his chin. Neville made it about once every week and a half to two weeks, when he could get away.

"He tried," Hermione said, "but they had an issue with some very rare…well, in truth, I can't pronounce it, but it's rare and carnivorous, so he had to stay tonight. He sends his best."

Ron was hoping to save up to visit Neville while he was in Gibraltar, but it seemed easier said than done at this point in time. He made decent money, but his impulse control wasn't good enough to keep him from spending it all as fast as he could make it.

"How's the team shaping up?" he asked Harry, who was living in the Midlands and came in to London only to visit friends. Ron was still living with his family for the moment, but he was looking at flats near Hogsmeade, to help prove to his brothers that he was serious about running the Hogsmeade branch.

"The Beaters need some work," Harry said, before going back to his drink and saying, "And before you ask, Kitty's perfect."

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Catherine was itching to go back to school, ripping open her letter as soon as it arrived and reading through the usual pleasantries – except Professor Snape was now Deputy Headmaster, and it was his signature at the bottom. She nearly choked on her pumpkin juice, and she hopped up, grazing over the books before she paused, turned back toward her smirking father and said, "Daddy, who's teaching Transfiguration?"

"If you're off to call Harry," he said, grinning, "don't bother. His dad's already told him."

She frowned, not sure what her father meant until he started laughing, and then she realized.

Uncle James was now Professor Potter.

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Jason had his Prefect Badge, but it wasn't lost on him that his sister didn't get the Head Girl badge. Catherine didn't seem bothered by this, and even as his mother was congratulating him on his accomplishment, and asking if he thought Cora or Natalie got the other badge, he was wondering who got the Head Girl badge, and he asked his father if he knew who had all the badges.

"Remus is the new Head of Gryffindor," his father said softly. "He had a hard time with this one, but he chose Natalie in the end because she's better at being proactive. And Rhea Prewett is Head Girl. Rolland Harper of Slytherin as Head Boy. I suspect Severus rigged the vote."

Jason supposed he could work with Rhea, at the very least, and he was looking forward to having something special to share with Natalie.

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Natalie's mother was so proud they actually bought a cake, and Natalie got a letter from Jason saying he was a Prefect, too. Her mother was very impressed her daughter was not only a Prefect, but was dating a Prefect who was a professor's son.

Natalie didn't have the heart to tell her mother the kind of teacher Professor Black was, a bit looney and way more interested in having fun than keeping order. Of course, all the students respected him, but it wasn't the kind of thing parents would really understand.

"Cora said her sister's Head Girl," Natalie said nervously. "I don't know if she's upset she didn't get a badge, but she didn't say. She would have been a good Prefect."

"You'll be a great one," her mother said lovingly, and Natalie decided that she didn't mind that her mother was being irrational about doting on her.

"Jason also said his Uncle James is our new Transfiguration Professor."

"Father's side or mother's side?"

Natalie laughed and said, "Oh, he's not actually related, Mum. It's one of his dad's school friends. James Potter. Erm, Jason's sister's future father-in-law, actually. I told you Kitty's engaged?"

That, her mother remembered, so from that starting point she explained how Professor Potter was related to everything in Natalie's life, starting with Harry, through Catherine to Jason, and then to Natalie. Once they got that sorted out, her mother asked if she wanted some crisps or if the cake was enough. Natalie assured her mother that the cake was more than enough.

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Rose went school shopping almost immediately after getting her letter, and she got a note from Caroline that it was Catherine's future father-in-law who was going to be the new Transfiguration professor.

According to Caroline, he was very fun, very goofy, very good at Quidditch, but apparently he was poor at puzzles.

As Rose went about putting books in a basket for purchase, she still couldn't figure out what the puzzles had to do with anything, but it was clearly important information to Caroline.

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Damon went shopping with his sisters and his cousin Ginny, who was strutting around telling anyone who would listen about being elected the new Quidditch Captain.

"As though it would have been anyone else," Ourania said brightly. "Any ideas on filling in the blanks?"

"We'll need another Chaser," Ginny said as Damon walked with them through the bookstore. "And a Keeper."

"Seeker?" Ourania asked. After all, Harry was the most prominent graduated member.

"Oh, that's going to Caroline Black," Ginny said as though this were obvious. "Caro's got a Firebolt, after all, and none of the other Seekers are going to be able to afford that. Plus, she flies brilliantly, and has a sharp eye."

Although Caroline probably guessed she would have a regular spot on the squad, she wouldn't know which, and Damon knew she would be so terribly pleased to learn she'd gotten the Seeker spot. He asked his cousin if he could tell her, and she said she didn't see why not. He hoped when Caroline thought of the position, she'd associate her happiness and pride with it with him, for telling her, and that it would add an extra layer of perfection to their relationship.

Ourania gossiped happily about how pleased she was that Harry's father was going to be their new professor, and she wondered whether he'd give them special treatment because he'd been a Gryffindor and was friends with their parents.

"You're forgetting something important," Rhea said softly, frowning as she picked up a thick book.

"What's that?" Damon asked, wincing at the size of Rhea's NEWT texts.

"Professor Dumbledore's retirement isn't just about getting a new Transfiguration Professor," she said frowning at the weight of her basket. "We've also got a new Deputy Head, and he's responsible for an awful lot of the disciplinary concerns."

Ourania and Ginny paled and looked as though they might be sick in unison, and Cora and Damon exchanged a glance.

Snape was responsible for discipline. They were all doomed.

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James had been thrilled to get the post, although Minerva – as he was now having to get used to thinking of Professor McGonagall – had expressed her concern at having so many Marauders in one place again.

Sirius and Remus were giving him a crash course in curriculum, lesson planning, grading, discipline. James hadn't realized just how much there was to learn, thinking his natural skill and charm would get him far, but he was a fast learner, and as he slaved over stacks of lesson plans, much to Lily's amusement, he decided nothing in the world was going to stop him from being the best Transfiguration professor ever.

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Jason had arranged to go to Hogsmeade with his girlfriend, so Sirius packed up the car and they drove to the train station to pick up Natalie McDonald, whose mother had seen her off on the other end before going to work.

Natalie looked nervous, but she brightened at the sight of Jason, and Sirius felt a strange kind of surreal sensation as he watched his usually very reserved son kiss his girlfriend in the middle of a busy train station. Caroline giggled, and Cara slipped her hand through Sirius's, but Sirius wondered if that was what he'd been like when he'd fallen in love with Cara, for people watching from the outside.

He was going to have to have a sex talk with his son, he decided. Soon.

"It's lovely to see you, Natalie," Cara said happily once they were all in the car. "Congratulations on your badge. Are you looking forward to the new year?"

"Yes, ma'am, thank you," Natalie said nervously, as she clearly wasn't sure how to address Jason's mother. Sirius's lips twitched slightly, knowing his wife wouldn't make the poor girl sweat.

"You can call me Cara," she said kindly to Natalie. "Although officially, publicly, I'm Madam Black. Ghastly, isn't it?"

"Yes," Catherine said effusively. "Horrible."

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During the Prefects meeting on the first day back, Cora sat with Jimmy and Dennis in their compartment, waiting for Jason and Natalie to come from their meeting and patrol.

"Are you upset it wasn't you?" Jimmy asked, tracing his fingers up her arm lovingly. She had grown used to touching and affection from Jimmy, who seemed to only adore her more as time went by.

"No," Cora said, shrugging, and she was being honest. "It would have been nice, but it's a lot of extra work, and Natalie's much more organized than I am. And it'll be nice for her and Jason to have more time alone together if they can get the same patrol slots. I know Rhea said she was going to try. Apparently Rolland sucks up big time to Kitty, so he'll likely go along with whatever Kitty suggests, and if Kitty brings it up, he'll bend over backward to make it happen."

They laughed, and Dennis made a joke about how Catherine had the whole world wrapped around her finger, and Cora had to agree that some days, it really felt like that.

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At the end of the Prefects meeting, Brontes stopped his cousin, Jason (not Catherine) and asked how he felt about working with his girlfriend.

"It'll be good," Jason said, rubbing his chin. "I'm pleased Kitty and Rhea worked to get us patrol times together."

Brontes wasn't so sure, but he nodded. It had seemed to Brontes, while watching the meeting unfold, Natalie was far more interested and serious about the position than Jason seemed to be. Although Brontes didn't want to say it out loud, he knew Jason and Natalie were from very different worlds, and while she could appreciate Jason, she was never going to be able to live in a world where one could earn by being born in the right family or giving gold to the right people, rather than from working hard. Sooner or later, Brontes knew Natalie would not find Jason's lack of need to work for what he got very frustrating, and Brontes wondered how they would enjoy working so closely together then.

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Ryana sat with Catherine at the feast, excited for another year. Catherine seemed distant, probably feeling for the first time Harry was not there with them, that he would only be around to visit every once in a while. Ryana supposed that would be difficult for Catherine, who was used to sneaking off whenever she wanted to fool around with her fiancé, but now had to focus on her studies so she could do whatever she wanted when she graduated.

"D'you think you'll have to have a lot of NEWTs?" Ryana asked, hoping Catherine would be paying attention to her grades so they could study together without Harry as a distraction.

Catherine snorted and said, "Professor Snape says I only need a passing grade on my Potions NEWT, and that will be easy. I have enough money and prestige and recommendation for the rest."

Ryana felt slightly deflated, but she supposed she always had Rhea and Luna and Ginny and Colin.

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Howard licked his lips at the Ravenclaw table, annoyed still that Rolland Harper beat him to the Head Boy badge, but he managed to quiet the new Ravenclaw students suitably as Professor McGonagall stood to speak.

/-/

Demelza Robins sat up a bit straighter when Professor McGonagall introduced the new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Potter. Considering Harry's already glittering career in the professional leagues and rumors he was going to be tapped to play for England, and the whispers Demelza had heard that his father used to be a celebrated Gryffindor Chaser, she wanted to make it a point to get on his good side and get pointers from him. She wanted to maintain her stature as the second Chaser with Ginny Weasley as the new Captain, and maybe even be tapped for the next Captain after Ginny graduated, and any tips she could get would be welcome.

She mused, as the Hall clapped to welcome him, Harry definitely took after his father, who looked so pleased to be there it was almost unnatural. He started gossiping with Professor Black the way Harry used to chat away with Neville, and she felt like this was likely a teacher she could relate to.

When they went up to bed that night, with Jason Black and Natalie McDonald staying behind to lead the first year students up, and Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey passing on the password to start the year, Demelza felt this might finally be her year. For the first time, she felt off to a spectacular start.

 **A/N: So, Dumbledore retires, James finally makes good on his threats, and Severus is Deputy Head.**

 **Review Prompt: The Marauders have reclaimed Hogwarts. How exactly is McGonagall feeling right now?**

 **Q &A: Ask me anything!**

 **C**


	115. Formative Steps

**A/N: Bonus 11!**

 **-C**

As a seventh year, Catherine had no Monday morning classes, but she knew she had to be at breakfast to get her schedule from Professor Sprout, anyway. She settled into her spot, across from a very groggy Ryana, and she saw her father enter with Uncle James, Uncle Remus, and…

"Professor Snape!" she chirped, waving at her former contracted fiancé. He gave her a sour look, his resting face since becoming Deputy Headmaster, but she was convinced it softened slightly when he saw her. Her father certainly brightened at seeing her, and he led the whole line of men over to her. He kissed her hair.

"Good morning, Kitty-Cat," he said, grinning. "No classes today? Uncle James here has his very first class after breakfast. Double Transfiguration with the first year Slytherins."

Catherine nodded solemnly. Uncle James had that pale look about him that Harry sometimes got before big games. She knew that Professor Snape had second year Potions, her father had Jason's class, and Uncle Remus had the sixth years, but she couldn't resist an opportunity to rub in her situation.

"I don't have anything until Potions on Wednesday before dinner," she said, with exaggerated mournfulness. Professor Snape's mouth twitched slightly, probably knowing full well that she was fishing, but she knew he'd bite. "I'll be dreadfully bored with nothing to study, especially without Harry around. I suppose I could call him—"

"No," her father said sternly. "You're an example, Kitty. A senior Prefect. Sneaking out with your graduated fiancé isn't appropriate behavior."

"If you're so bored," Professor Snape said, heading off her arguments, "then perhaps you would come by my lab tonight after dinner. I have a considerable stack of paperwork keeping me from Madam Pomfrey's restocking orders."

Of course, they all knew he was more than capable of doing both things, that he was simply interested in avoiding her particular brand of semi-petulant chaos and perhaps a little interested in giving her more practice at her chosen craft, but no one acknowledged this. Uncle Remus and Uncle James appeared to be fighting their smirks admirably, and Catherine thanked him.

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your breakfasts," she said brightly. "After all, teachers are supposed to be good examples for the young students, aren't they?"

Her father tweaked her nose, kissed her temple as Uncle James laughed, and said softly, "If I didn't love you so much, Kitty, I'd take off points for cheek."

She hummed and kissed his face before returning to her breakfast as they continued on to the Head Table.

"Sometimes," Ryana said thoughtfully, "I feel bad for your father."

"Why?" Catherine asked, already thinking of how she would spend her day until dinner.

"You're bloody exhausting," Ryana groaned. "I know you're going to sneak out anyway, if you want to. Harry doesn't have practice in the afternoons, does he?"

Catherine said nothing, glancing over at Jason, who always seemed to know when she was planning something ill-advised. Sure enough, he was watching her now, his eyes dark from over at the Gryffindor table, his hand resting casually in McDonald's hand. Whether or not their father really believed she would not call Harry, would not coax him to sneak in, or to sneak to the village where she'd meet him, she knew Jason would believe no such thing. She'd have to keep an eye on the Map, she supposed, which she'd already decided to leave to Caroline when she graduated.

Jason simply wouldn't understand.

"Well, can you help me this morning, anyway?" Ryana said weakly.

"With what?" Catherine asked wearily as she put ketchup on her sausages. "History's not until Thursday."

"I know," Ryana said, whimpering. "But the work I did on my project over the summer has me all confused, and I only have until Thursday to get myself sorted out again or your father is going to be so displeased with me."

Well, that was fair enough, and Catherine did have several hours before Harry would even be free to take a call, much less to meet. She sighed

"Fine," she said, picking up her fork delicately as her father laughed at something Uncle James had said. She liked Uncle James, but he was an almost obnoxiously cheerful addition to her father's little coterie. Teachers weren't supposed to be this happy. "Fine, I'll help you, but I can't do it all for you, Ryana. Daddy will know."

Ryana had apparently already thought of this fact, and she began to explain eagerly and rather too quickly how she had planned to avoid this problem. It sounded tiresome and complicated, with Catherine only able to answer a series of yes-or-no questions related to Ryana's very complicated project on the great war against Voldemort. Catherine knew her father always hated it when students tried to do projects on the war, mostly because he hated presiding over research projects where he'd be a subject of the research, but Ryana was only one of four who were tackling various aspects of the war.

Catherine agreed to the mad plan, musing silently how relieved her father had been when Catherine talked her friend into tweaking her topic enough that she wouldn't be tempted to interview survivors. Ryana had likely thought having access to the Blacks and their set through Catherine would give her some great advantage before the testing board, but she wasn't thinking what such interviews might do to Catherine's mother.

"Hurry up and finish your food," Catherine said coolly. "I'll be at our usual spot in the library when you've finished."

/-/

Ron met up with Neville and Draco at lunch, and he frowned at the empty chair.

"Where's Harry?" he asked. "He was supposed to be out of practice in time to make it."

Neville shifted uncomfortably and then said, "Well, Kitty called. You know she doesn't have classes until late Wednesday. And, well…. You know Harry can't do anything but go running when Kitty calls."

Ron sighed, nodding, thinking he'd be so happy when she was graduated so they didn't have to feel like they were fighting for Harry's attention.

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Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fifth years had Uncle Remus after lunch, and Jason was sitting in the front row with Natalie, waiting eagerly for the speech about the importance of their OWL year. He knew Uncle James was dealing with the Gryffindor third years', and while he didn't want to think about it, Jason had a sneaking feeling wherever Catherine was, Harry was with her by now.

"Good afternoon," Uncle Remus said calmly as the last students settled in. They repeated the words back to him, and Uncle Remus's eyes lingered for a moment on Jason. If it were Uncle James, no doubt, he would have winked, but he turned away to look at the rest of the class before sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Let's talk exams," he said, smiling as several students groaned, wearily. "Yes, I know. You're all terribly sick of it right now. And I can also promise you, you'll be much more sick of it by May. But I don't think I need to tell you how important passing exams can be for your futures."

Jason nodded, barely listening. He already knew how important exams were. He'd tune back in when they were actually learning something.

/-/

Rose sat down in Arithmancy with Damon Prewett. They both pulled out their books and their summer work, and she asked how Caroline was. The only courses Rose had with Caroline were Herbology (where they'd not had a chance to speak) and Ancient Runes, which they didn't have until Wednesday morning.

"She's good," he said, smiling to himself. After Herbology, she knew they'd had the rest of the morning off, and Rose didn't have to ask what Caroline had him doing in that time. She'd known them long enough now to know that they pair had been making out in some corner of the castle, or maybe even in his dormitory. Damon wasn't only wrapped around Caroline's finger – he would do anything for a chance to kiss her. Then he smirked slightly.

"Caro says Brontes was asking about you," he said softly as Professor Vector entered, going straight to the board.

Rose felt her face go hot. She didn't know why Brontes Lestrange was so interested in her, but she had recognized it, and she couldn't help thinking it was nice, his attention.

/-/

By dinner, Damon had to admit to himself Professor Potter looked exhausted. Damon had heard a lot of good things and was annoyed he wouldn't actually have him until Thursday. Damon slipped his hand into Caroline's.

"Lots of work?" she asked, almost teasingly, and he held his breath. Double Arithmancy was a brutal thing on a Monday, but Herbology hadn't given them much homework, so it felt doable.

"No," he said slowly, hoping against hope that she was suggesting what he thought she might be suggesting.

"Want to skip out of dinner early and go to your dormitory?" she whispered in his ear.

Damon could already feel his heart pounding, and even thinking of how she'd sat on his lap before lunch, the way she'd ground her body into his as though she didn't realize it was driving him to the brink of madness…. He could feel himself growing hard right there at the table.

With a nervous glance up to where her father was chatting with the other teachers, he nodded, desperate to be that close to her again.

/-/

James sat down on Sirius's sofa, accepting the drink Remus passed him with a sigh of relief.

"I don't know how you do it," he told them. "Those kids are bloody exhausting."

"Wait until you have Caro and Kitty," Remus warned. "They'll keep you on your toes. Don't give them an inch."

Knowing Remus was certainly right, James groaned, downing his glass in one and passing it back to Remus for a refill.

/-/

Padma pulled out the key she'd talked Harry into making for her, letting herself into his house. She could hear him in the kitchen, likely washing up from whatever dinner he'd had. He was smiling to himself when she came into the room, and she knew he must have snuck over to Hogwarts and seen Catherine. Padma felt a stab of jealousy that he'd managed it so soon and she would have to wait for a more convenient time.

Still, she had ways of amusing herself.

"Hello, Harry," she said, and he set down the plate he was holding, looking at her with slightly wide eyes as she touched his cheek. "I was bored and thought we'd play."

He blinked, but he wasn't trying to decide what to do. She knew without even searching his eyes, he'd given up fighting her suggestions, especially the pleasant ones. The higher dose of Bliss was definitely working, although she knew she was likely to have to increase it even further, eventually.

He was waiting for her to do something, so she pulled out a little pill, holding out the capsule.

"On your knees," she said playfully. "You can have it when you're on your knees and asking for it."

Like a dog, he dropped to his knees, without Catherine's eagerness but with unquestionable swiftness. She ran her fingers through his hair like he was a beloved pet and he didn't lean into her touch, but he didn't argue with it.

"Please," he said, knowing exactly what she wanted. "Please, may I have some Bliss?"

"You only ever have to ask, pet," she cooed, placing the pill on his waiting tongue and enjoying the almost immediate change in his demeanor. He craned into her touch, leaning closer to her body. Padma caressed his face down his jaw and said, "I think it's time we broke in your bedroom. Don't you?"

He groaned his agreement, and he was about to stand to lead her there, but she touched his shoulder.

"You can go on your knees, pet," she said, smiling to herself. "After all, you love it down there, don't you?"

"Yes," he said, without hesitation. That one had taken weeks, but he was agreeing to it readily now. He led her on his hands and knees, and she almost wished she had a leash for him, so she could walk him like a puppy to the bedroom.

It was a sizable room, comfortable. She had plans for it, certainly, although he didn't need to worry about those for the moment. For the moment, all she wanted him thinking about was putting his face between her thighs and pleasing her over and over and over.

Padma shed her clothes quickly, and she watched his eyes go slightly larger as he watched her undress. She didn't let him undress. He wouldn't need to, tonight. If he was good, she decided, she might let him tomorrow.

"I hope the sheets are comfortable," she sighed, looking at the bed.

"They're what Kitty said you wanted," he said, and she climbed onto them, feeling how cool and soft they were.

Padma hummed her satisfaction, and Harry still stood there, watching her as she spread out on the sheets. She closed her eyes, letting her hands caress her bare skin, knowing Harry was watching. She imagined Catherine wrapped around her, desperate to please her, to be close to her. She slipped her hand between her thighs and she heard Harry make a small, hungry sound. Padma smiled to herself.

"Come here, pet," she said, opening her eyes. He knelt at the foot of the bed, waiting anxiously for his instructions. She could see him trembling. "You want a taste, don't you?"

Harry hesitated only slightly. She could see that he was wondering about how much he wanted it, about how she hadn't even mentioned the rest of his dose. She didn't want him thinking that hard.

"Don't you want a taste?" she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said, although with some measure of confusion.

"Does it taste good?"

"Yes," he said, leaning closer, still slightly puzzled.

"Don't you want to do what's good, what feels good?"

"Yes," he said, a little more relaxed now that they were circling back around to his usual mantras.

"Good boys," she said softly, "have open mouths. Happy mouths are open mouths."

"Happy tongues are busy tongues," he murmured, leaning toward her thigh, almost begging for a taste with his posture.

"Good boy," she purred, caressing his hair. "Now, taste me."

He did, with an eagerness he never had before. There was always something delicious and freeing for them in the first taste that wasn't thought of as a payment, but as a reward of some kind.

Padma managed to keep him working at various pleasuring tasks without promise of earning another half-dose of Bliss for about two and a half hours. She kept feeding him mantras until she recognized that his high was beginning its downward slope.

"Very good," she sighed, caressing his cheek to coax him closer to her face. She kissed his lips and tasted herself on them, which was always a pleasant sensation. "Do you want to earn your full dose?" she whispered against his lips.

"Yes," Harry said quickly, and she told him to suckle her breasts, which he did eagerly.

"Mmm, you like them, don't you?" she said, stroking his hair. He hummed his agreement of this statement. "You like them better than Catherine's?"

Harry hesitated.

She knew this was a critical moment. His loyalty depended on how he responded to these instructions.

In her most soothing voice, Padma said, "It's alright, Harry, it's perfectly natural." He suckled more normally, and she caressed his thick hair, closing her eyes. "You love Catherine." He hummed.

"But you need me," she said gently. "Just like Catherine loves you, but she _needs_ me. It's why you both belong to me, isn't it?"

Harry hesitated for several moments before nodding his agreement.

"You need me, don't you?" He hummed. "Very good boy," she sighed as he nibbled lightly on the end of one nipple. "You like my breasts?" He hummed. "You like them better than Catherine's?"

No hesitation this time. He was agreeing to everything she said as he relaxed into what he was doing and the rhythm of agreeing that he liked various parts of her better than the same parts of Catherine. She repeated each statement of agreement in a cycle until she knew he wasn't even listening as he agreed with her.

"Very good," she said, holding him by a chin and pulling him away from her breast. He looked up at her with slightly hazy eyes as she grabbed the other half of his dose. He opened his mouth without prompting, sticking out his tongue slightly for the capsule, and he sucked it right off her fingers when she went to put it on his tongue. Padma smiled slightly to herself as he shivered, the fresh rush hitting him.

"Now," she said, wrapping her legs around his clothed body possessively, "why don't you just enjoy tasting whatever parts of me you want to taste while I talk you through truth?"

Harry didn't need another prompting and he kissed down her body before burying his face between her thighs again. She clasped him between her legs as she enjoyed his tongue.

"You'd love to be inside me, wouldn't you, Harry?" she sighed, and he groaned his agreement, which she knew he wasn't ready to do without the full dose of Bliss. "Too bad for you no one's allowed inside of me. Because I'm special, right?" he hummed. "Just like Catherine's special." He groaned his agreement again. "Nothing can be inside of us."

This had been proving difficult for him, but Catherine said he hardly ever begged anymore.

"Don't you worry, pet, I'm merciful," she sighed as his tongue hastened at the endearment he was coming to accept. "I'll find a solution for your poor, male weaknesses. When you've proven you're ready and worthy for it. And how do you prove that?"

His tongue moved even faster, his teeth getting in on the action. She moaned at the improvement of his technique and she sighed, "Very, very good boy."

 **A/N: So, Catherine toys with people, James adjusts to professorship, and Harry's training is ramped into high gear.**

 **Review Prompt: Of the three Marauders, who would be your favorite teacher?**

 **Q &A: Don't forget to ask questions!**

 **-C**


	116. Uneasy Christmas

**A/N: Bonus 12! We're chugging along!**

 **-C**

Cora sat with Jason, Natalie, and Dennis while Jimmy served a detention for a prank gone wrong in Charms resulting in a minor injury of Professor Flitwick. He was really very lucky Professor Flitwick was so good-natured about the whole thing, but Cora supposed that was probably why Jimmy had chosen to do it then.

"You encouraged him, didn't you?" Natalie said accusingly to the boys, giving her boyfriend a hard look.

Cora noticed she'd been doing that a lot lately. Jason could be a bit lax about rules, perhaps because of the attitudes of his family, and it wasn't until the pair had become Prefects together that this really bothered Natalie.

"Define encouraged?" Dennis said, his lips twitching, and Natalie made a frustrated sound, going up to her dormitory. Jason sighed, leaning forward.

"Listen," he said, "Dad said you guys could come to Selwyn Manor for Christmas if you want to. It's officially Kitty's last one at home, so he's making a big thing of it."

Cora frowned slightly and Dennis raised his eyebrows, both clearly thinking the same thing. Jason, who wasn't seeming to think what they were thinking asked what was wrong, and Dennis, as usually, took the earliest opportunity to speak frankly.

"Well, you waited for Natalie to leave to ask," he said. "Is she not invited?"

Jason blinked, puzzled.

"What?" he said, turning to look after where his girlfriend had left. "Oh," he said, flushing slightly. "No I didn't…. Well, she and I already talked about it. Of course she's invited. Just because we've had some differences of opinion…. Well, anyway, she's already agreed to come. She's just tired, you guys. Try not to be too hard on her."

Cora wanted to tell him Natalie was far from just tired, but somehow it felt like an intrusion to say. Jason was so good at seeing things, surely he knew Natalie was slipping away from him. Cora trusted he could handle it on his own, however he wanted to handle it, and it wasn't any of her business.

Mercifully, Dennis bought that Natalie was just tired, because Dennis considered everything his business and was firmly convinced he knew best how things should be handled in all matters.

"I'd be happy to go," Cora said, smiling and eagerly changing topics. "I suspect my parents and family are all invited and attending, anyway."

"Of course," Jason said, smiling.

It was strange, but Cora thought Jason smiled a lot more regularly since becoming a Prefect, despite all the fighting with Natalie. And Natalie, Natalie smiled more too. Maybe they were those kinds of people who liked to fight with each other? Cora knew that such things existed, and while she'd never have expected it of her friends, she supposed no one ever really knew a person.

The three of them sat by the fireplace and Dennis and Cora ignored Jason when he told off younger students for doing stupid things they weren't supposed to do.

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Three days before Halloween, Fabian learned from his brother that a retirement meant that the position for the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic was opening, and he told Dorcas when they got home, getting ready to make dinner for two. She was uncorking a bottle of wine and she paused to frown at him.

"What, thinking of changing careers?" she teased. "Can you help me with this? We need a new corkscrew, love."

He kissed the top of her head and uncorked the bottle, agreeing with her.

"No, I just thought it was an interesting thing," he said, going back to the rice he was cooking. "There's going to be a bit of a scramble. Where's your money?"

"Draco Malfoy," she said, pouring the wine and licking her fingers after she wiped a bit of stray wine off the bottle. "It really can't be anybody else."

This surprised Fabian. After all, Draco was only just out of school, had barely been a Junior Undersecretary for a matter of months. Their nephew Percy had been in the department much longer, and had very high qualifications.

"Know something I don't?" he asked sipping the wine when she pressed the glass to his lips. He smacked his lips and nodded, thanking her.

"Two things you've forgotten," she said, rubbing her eyes before putting the wine on the table and going for the silverware. "One, Draco is an incredibly talented, well-connected, wealthy individual from a longstanding family in the wizarding community."

"Fair," Fabian said slowly.

"Also," she said, leaning over him to get the plates out of the top cupboard, "Percy's an arse."

Fabian snorted, but he couldn't really argue with that. His sister's son was probably one of the most obnoxious, pretentions people Fabian had ever met – and he and his wife worked with politicians regularly.

They laid out their dinner and Fabian sat at the table, about to start eating when he frowned and said, "Lucius is going to be insufferable, isn't he?"

"He always is anyway," Dorcas said with a shrug. "Pass the sprouts."

/-/

"Christmas?" Padma asked as Harry lay back in his bed, and she watched him come down from his Bliss high. He had a day off practice when Catherine was too busy to meet up, so they'd spent the day together.

He sighed, touching his nipples as he tried to hold onto the high a bit longer.

"We'll both be at Selwyn Manor," he said, watching her body as she sat, naked beside him on the bed. "I…I'd try to get you an invite, but it'll be filled with people, and her dad might think it was weird if I…if we…."

"I understand," she said, tracing her fingers up his arms, and he shivered. "We'll concentrate on what we do have. When Catherine is graduated and lives here, it will all be so much easier."

He moaned and she tweaked his nipples, contemplating giving him another dose. It was risky, but she could milk the whole day for her advantage if she tried, maybe into the night.

Maybe if he asked first, she decided, watching his face twist with adoration as he looked at her.

/-/

Harry went to Neville's flat on Halloween, and was happy to see Draco there, looking well. They didn't see each other enough, between the demands of their jobs and society and Padma. Harry almost shivered at the thought of how often he was seeing Padma lately, and he wondered if that should bother him.

But he needed her, he thought, as though this were the most obvious and reasonable thing in the world. He needed her, and belonged to her, and so of course he would see her as often as possible. Best when he could see her with Catherine, but if he couldn't, he would bend over backwards to see Padma.

And he didn't have to, he reminded himself. Padma had a key, and took no issue with letting herself in. It made everything so much easier on Harry, not having to think about it, not having to worry.

"Congratulations," Hermione told Draco earnestly, and he thanked her.

"What have you gone and done now?" Harry asked.

"I've been given a new position," Draco bragged. "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Didn't you just get the last one?" Harry said, smirking.

"Well, you know, some things move quickly in politics."

Harry hummed, but he didn't know or understand or even care. He knew Padma would be coming by in the morning again, and he was already aching with excitement for more Bliss.

/-/

Rhea sat awkwardly as she listened to Catherine belittle Zacharias Smith and his treatment of Rhea.

Of course, Rhea knew that he wasn't especially kind all the time, but he did flatter her frequently, and sometimes he could be very sweet.

Catherine didn't understand, Rhea supposed, that not everyone was like her. Not everyone had men falling over themselves to meet her every whim. Not everyone knew they would spend the rest of their life comfortable, cared for, adored, and with a highly eligible match.

No matter how Rhea looked at it, Zacharias would be a good match, and Rhea tried not to think too much of the downsides, because Catherine did enough of that for the both of them.

"I agree," Colin suddenly said, cutting off Catherine's rant and startling their whole group. Rhea was shocked with the firmness of his voice, the set of his jaw. "I think he's way out of line."

Catherine's eyebrows went up and she nodded thoughtfully.

"I think I'm going to tell him so," Catherine said darkly.

"Please," Rhea began, but Colin encouraged Catherine, and they all knew that once someone encouraged Catherine on one of her ideas, no sense could be talked into her.

When Catherine left to go to her dormitory before her rounds, Rhea sighed, rubbing her head.

"I wish you wouldn't," she said to Colin.

"I wish you would," he said sadly, and he walked away before she could ask what he meant by that.

/-/

Zacharias always knew when Catherine Black was his partner for patrols, it was because she was angry with him. She had the Head Boy and Head Girl in her pocket, and if she didn't want to be near him, she never had to be.

Sure enough, when they began their rounds, she started tearing into him for supposed maltreatment of Rhea Prewett. Zacharias rolled his eyes, bored to death of her droning on about this same thing all the time.

"You know, she's a big girl, Black," he said, tired. "She can speak for herself. You don't have to get you claws out on her behalf."

Catherine Black's nostrils flared. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted, but Zacharias winced and backed away when her wand came out. Bold as he felt when her wand was away and they were alone, he knew she was adept at spells he didn't even know existed. He swallowed as she twirled her wand with a smirk.

"I'll make this simple for you," she said, amused. "Leave her alone, or I'll make it so you won't be able to get a girlfriend ever again."

Zacharias didn't need an imagination to know what she was talking about. The dangerous twinkle in her eyes said enough.

They didn't speak the rest of the night.

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Aeson was more than ready for Christmas break when it came, and he sat with his brother on the train. He had a sneaking sensation that Brontes was only sitting with him out of some kind of brotherly pity, but Aeson said nothing. The truth was, he knew that he'd be sitting alone without Brontes, because he wasn't on good enough terms now with Caroline to sit with her friends and he didn't exactly have any friends of his own.

"You know we're going to Selwyn Manor at some point over the holiday," Brontes said softly as the train entered the London area, city clearly visible outside the windows. Aeson hummed. "And you're aware it would be much simpler if you hadn't tried to annihilate our cousin during the dueling finals last year."

"She tried to annihilate me," Aeson argued, still very bitter that it was called a draw, as if that was a thing that should ever happen in a duel.

"Yes," Brontes said with his infuriating calm. "And you need to learn there is a time for chivalry."

Aeson snorted, no longer interested in anything his brother would have to say for the rest of the day. It couldn't possibly be worthwhile if his brother was going to peddle that kind of tosh. After all, everyone knew that chivalry was for Gryffindors, and as Aeson was very fully convinced, it would always be their weakest trait, not one to copy in any circumstance.

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Rose felt very anxious as she settled in at Selwyn Manor. She would never get used to having such a wealthy friend, but she thought the manor was beautiful, and thought that Caroline's mother was the most beautiful woman she'd ever met, and found that being around the Black family and their various friends and associates was a pleasant kind of extended family experience she'd never had before.

"Rose," Professor Potter said happily, ushering her into the kitchen where Ourania and Caroline were helping him with a baking project. "We need and extra set of hands. Are you game?"

She nodded and smiled. Ever since he started, Rose had decided Professor Potter was her favorite teacher, too fun, too brilliant, too cool. He readily talked about his time in the war, unlike Professor Black who only did so reluctantly. He knew more about Quidditch than anyone she knew, and supported her quiet interests enthusiastically.

Although, as she was finding when he put her to work with a biscuit cutter, he seemed to do everything enthusiastically.

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Lily sat with her son, seeing the wearing of age on him, seeing the cares of adulthood in his eyes, and she watched Harry watch Catherine as she gossiped with Ginny Weasley, still very much a child in so many ways.

Lily wanted to tell him she would grow, but looking at her father it was so hard to say. Sirius rose to the occasion, and could behave as an adult, but he vastly preferred being a child, and Catherine was likely to be much the same.

"Have you started planning the wedding?" Lily asked, smiling at Harry, who tore his eyes away from his fiancée reluctantly.

"I don't know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told her she can do whatever she likes for the wedding. And I really don't mind. So…maybe?"

Lily hummed, hoping he stood up for himself a bit, or he'd be stuck in yellow and black just because Catherine would find it endlessly amusing.

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James sat up with Sirius on Christmas Eve, watching his best friend pace the floor of the ballroom, presumably preparing for the party the following night.

Except he wasn't, and James knew it. Sirius was trying to mentally prepare himself for letting go of his little girl. Although Catherine had said very little about her upcoming wedding, she had mentioned the night before to Lily how she'd thought of having it in Selwyn Manor, as her parents had, and after overhearing, Sirius had gone back to treating his little girl like glass.

It was different for James, although he couldn't have articulated why. Perhaps because Harry had already moved out, perhaps because James had never seen his son in the ways Sirius had always viewed his daughter. In words Sirius had never used but James had always thought, Sirius had always looked at Catherine as his salvation, which had been quite a weight to put on a newborn child, and only seemed heavier now she was a young woman with her own life and own mistakes to carry.

"You'll wear a hole through the floor, mate," James said softly. "Cate will never forgive you."

Sirius hummed, rubbing his cheeks as he looked around at the room, frozen almost in the center, staring at one spot which James could only assume was where he'd taken Cara as his bride, since James and Lily hadn't been welcome guests.

"D'you remember when Christmas was a battle between our children for who got the best gifts?" Sirius said with a sad smile. James said he certainly did, smiling in the memory of the year when Harry was six and Catherine was five, when they'd purposefully gotten them exactly the same gifts just to see how they'd respond.

Apoplectic was the best word James could think of, to this day. The pair of them.

"I don't want to give my daughter away in this room, James," Sirius sighed, flopping onto the hard floor of the ballroom. "She thinks of it as the place where her mother and I started our life together, but it wasn't. That was the safe house where we met, and then my London flat. This was just the binding of us together in the eyes of the Ministry. Although," he tapped his nose thoughtfully. "Although, I think this might have been the place."

"What place?" James asked, leaning forward.

"Remember the story I told you about meeting Cara when we were children, tricking her birth father into stopping his torture of her?" James nodded, still feeling queasy at the thought that a person could torture their own small child, especially a child as sweet as Cara had to have been. "I think that was a party that happened here. I think that's why they let her out for it. She was hardly ever at them, before and after. Her poor mother still had some strength then, before they totally broke her spirit."

Sirius sighed, laying back on the cool floor. James wondered what kinds of things swirled through his best friends' mind in times like this, when Sirius was forced to struggle between the fantasy life he'd tried to build for himself and the coldness of the reality his life had been and sometimes continued to be.

"This place doesn't have good luck," Sirius said sadly. "I don't want their life together to start out here."

"I'll see what I can do," James said softly. "Kitty was very fond of your villa in France, wasn't she?"

At this, Sirius perked up, grinning. James felt a wave of relief that they might have found a suitable solution. The trick was always convincing Catherine it was her idea, but James figured between the lot of them, they could think of something. Lily seemed to understand the girl, at any rate.

Woman, James reminded himself as he herded Sirius to bed. If Catherine was going to be his daughter-in-law soon, he needed to stop letting Sirius's image of her as a little girl dictate how he saw her. She was a woman now, the future mother of James's grandchildren, and it was time for them all to acknowledge her womanhood, once and for all.

 **A/N: So, Jason and Natalie are strained, Draco's got a new job, and wedding planning takes its first unsteady steps.**

 **Review Prompt: Big or small wedding, do we think?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will it end by the time Kitty leaves Hogwarts, the thing with Padma? (Asma20)**

 **A: I know Padma is bothering some of you. Hopefully quite a lot of you. And I did say, this is the main drama to overcome, and it will last longer than some of the other struggles. It will not be over when Kitty leaves Hogwarts, but I will say it will be well over by the time Caroline leaves Hogwarts. Plenty of chapters of cleaning up the mess. Oh, what a complicated mess it will leave.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	117. Pressure Choices

**A/N: Bonus 13! Still more to come today!**

 **-C**

On the whole, Christmas Day was a pleasant one at Selwyn Manor. Colin went down to brunch after opening his gifts and he paused when he saw Rhea talking with Ryana and Luna in low voices. He watched her tuck a strand of ginger hair behind her ear, revealing a bit of her pale, lightly freckled neck, and he wanted to enter the room and confidently talk with the girls, but he was afraid to all at once.

"You know," Catherine said, suddenly coming up behind him, speaking very softly, "if you like her this much, you really should just ask her out."

"Who?" Colin squeaked, as though he could possibly be nonchalant about the matter, especially with Catherine. Naturally, she just rolled her eyes.

"If you honestly believe Rhea isn't the only person not to notice you've been pining for her for years, you've lost it," she said with complete disparagement in her voice.

Colin liked being friends with Catherine, but sometimes it was a massive blow to his confidence, to be treated that way by anyone. He didn't know how Ryana managed to bear the brunt of Catherine's disinterest.

"I know," he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck as Rhea sat down at the brunch table, talking calmly and confidently with Professor Black. "Kitty, I think I love her."

"So tell her," Catherine said, as though such things could ever be simple. Colin wanted to laugh, but he was too afraid to draw attention to himself.

Catherine got the sort of wicked smile she sometimes got when she had an idea, and she grabbed him by the wrist and said, "Look, everyone! Colin's here! Colin, you should sit right here."

She walked him over to the chair beside Rhea and practically shoved him into the seat, looking very satisfied with herself as she pranced over to where Harry was sitting with Jason and his friends. Colin looked up at Professor Black nervously, and was not terribly surprised to see his teacher was very amused by his daughter's antics. Colin probably would have found it amusing as well, he supposed, if he weren't the butt of the joke.

"Happy Christmas," Rhea said, smiling at him. He felt his hands begin to sweat. "Did you sleep well?"

Colin cleared his throat and said, "Erm, yeah, th-thanks. Did you?"

"Well enough," she said, smiling at her plate as she picked up her fork.

"We were just saying how difficult it is to sleep when you're excited about something," Luna said in her distant way, tapping her fork absently on her rashers. "Professor, do you suppose we'll have to be dressed up quite a lot this evening? I don't really have proper dress robes with me."

"Luna, you could come in fancy dress, if that suited you," Professor Black said, winking. "Might scandalize my sister-in-law and my cousin's husband, but I couldn't possibly care less. I'm sure whatever you wear will be perfectly lovely."

Luna thanked him and Colin's fork slipped out of his hand on the first three tries, so sweaty were his palms. He swallowed and thought to himself that this was going to be a very long day, good or otherwise.

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Cora dressed for the party, feeling strange as she looked at her dress robes. She'd never feel comfortable in this strange world Jason lived in. While she wouldn't have ever suggested Jason relished it, she did note that he never seemed uncomfortable.

"What do you think?" Rhea asked, smoothing out the skirt of her own dress robes and turning for Cora to take a look at the cool blue material. Cora smiled.

"Beautiful," she said, thinking of how Colin was bound to look at Rhea, the way he'd been staring at her all day. She hoped he had the sense to hang off Rhea's every word. "What do you think of mine?"

Cora twirled a little in her smooth gold dress robes, pale and lightweight, and she felt her breath catch as she wondered what Jimmy would think of them. It all seemed so silly, but she couldn't help herself for wondering.

"Lovely, of course," Rhea said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not that we'll really make much of a splash with Catherine in the room, but it's nice to look our best, I suppose."

Cora knew Rhea wasn't bitter about her friend's beauty and radiance, but there was a certain amount of sense in what Rhea said. There was no gaining the attention when Catherine was in the room, and that was just that.

The two girls adjusted their collars and Rhea asked if Cora would do something with her hair, which was how Cora realized Rhea really did care how she looked tonight. Cora said of course she would, and she plaited her sister's hair with deft fingers, wondering if Rhea had finally realized how mad Colin Creevey was for her. It could be a bit night, Cora supposed, finishing off the plait and making her sister turn so she could examine her work from all angles. With a small nod she said, "That's quite excellent. You can wear my pedant and you'll be perfect."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly," Rhea said, her eyes wide.

Cora shook her head, making excuses that her dress was too sparkly for wearing a pendant, anyway, and she quietly smirked, watching the way Rhea smiled at the finished appearance of her look.

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Lucius and his wife arrived shortly after their son did, coming straight from work, and Lucius saw that Draco was having a glass of wine with Harry in the corner, Catherine Black on Potter's arm with grace and confidence her mother had never managed to fully possess.

It stung for Lucius that he'd been unable to do one simple thing, to obtain the best possible wife for his son, but Draco did not seem to mind.

"Come on," Narcissa said, nodding to where her sister was kissing their cousins' cheek. "We should greet our host."

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Ryana was practically buzzing as she walked through the party. Catherine looked like a goddess, and Ryana and Luna and Ginny were walking through, watching Rhea talking with Colin in the corner.

"Do you think they'll kiss?" Ryana asked, stifling a giggle.

Ginny hummed, looking around the ballroom and frowning slightly to herself.

"Well, that's no good," she said, and she broke off from the group.

"Where are you going?" Ryana asked, feeling slightly breathless and concerned about what Ginny might be up to.

"I'm going to talk to our host about the painful lack of mistletoe," Ginny said with a wink, and she sashayed over to Professor Black, who was having a jovial conversation with Rhea's uncle – or father? Ryana couldn't tell the apart at all. She thought it was probably Rhea's uncle.

"Do you think he will?" Ryana asked. Luna said she hoped not, and began talking about the dangers of mistletoe, but Ryana wasn't listening. She was watching the wicked gleam in Professor Black's eye as Ginny told him of her plans, and she knew he was going to conjure mistletoe, and if his gleams were corresponding to his daughter's, it was likely mistletoe to follow Rhea and Colin around all day.

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Ron enjoyed the party, sitting with Neville and Hermione in a corner, watching conjured mistletoe follow around Rhea and Colin Creevey. Ryana and Luna sat down with them, looking slightly tired.

"That looks so dangerous," Luna said, shaking her head. Ron raised his eyebrows, leaning forward. "All those Nargles."

Hermione nearly choked on her eggnog, and Neville gently and patiently patted her back, smiling vaguely at the word.

"What?" Ron asked, slightly concerned. "What's a Nargle?"

Ron might have expected, before he came to the party, to have Luna Lovegood explain to him what a Nargle was would ruin his Christmas, but the longer he sat with her, the more interested he was in her strange, imagined world of creatures, and he hardly noticed their friends sneaking away as the party went on.

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At the end of the night, Neville went back to Hermione's flat, and he felt a rush of excitement in his chest. He knew he'd have to go back to Gibraltar in the morning, but he barely could stand the thought of leaving without making the most of his night.

"I thought it was a lovely evening," she said, leading him into the flat, and his eyes grazed Hermione's body as he followed her, aching to touch her. "Didn't you?"

Neville hummed, and as she was going to lead him into the sitting room, he grabbed her wrist and started leading her toward her bedroom. She gave a surprised laugh as she followed him, and was about to ask what had gotten into him when he closed the door behind her, pressed her against the door, and kissed her with every bit of passion he could muster. Hermione relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, and Neville left off thinking the rest of the night.

He could always take up thinking again in the morning.

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Jason sat down with his sister after the partygoers had gone. He knew Catherine was about to sneak up to Harry's room and have sex, with the hopes their father would have the good sense not to check on them. Still, she'd seen him leave the whole party in frustration, and for once in her life Catherine was showing some measure of sensitivity to him.

"You know, I know you love Natalie," Catherine said softly, "but sometimes you have to acknowledge it's time to let go."

It was easy for her to say, but he rubbed his forehead and nodded, still so terribly unsure what to do after this latest fight. He was touched, though, that Catherine had bothered to reach out to him, and he kissed her cheek, wished her a good night, and walked away so she could sneak up to Harry's room like she wanted.

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The first Hogsmeade trip back was very early in the return to school, and Caroline led her friends through the streets to a friend of a friend – a friend of her sister, actually – who was willing to supply alcohol.

Rose was nervous about the whole thing, but Ourania and Caroline talked her into it and with Damon alongside them, they snuck behind the Hog's Head and shared three bottles of firewhiskey. It wasn't the good stuff Caroline's father kept around the house, but it was functional, and after several glasses, Caroline got the best idea.

"No," Rose giggled, shaking her head. "No, no, no. I don't want one."

"C'mon," Caroline pressed, her arm around Damon's shoulders as she sat on his lap. "It's a brilliant idea. You want to be one of us, right?"

Rose couldn't argue, Caroline knew, so Caroline led the way to a guy she knew, who gave brilliant tattoos. He'd done one for George Weasley and did half of Charlie Weasley's tattoos while those boys were in school, and Caroline only wanted the best.

He didn't mind they were so young, only asked for a kiss from each of the girls, which Rose was very nervous about, but she did when Caroline told her to. He helped them pick a design, and gave them the tattoo free of charge with another kiss from each girl. Caroline hardly had to tell Rose to do it the second time, and the girl stood perfectly still as the man tattooed on her chest a beautiful claw.

Caroline admired her own claw tattoo, also on her chest, and asked Damon if he liked them. He didn't seem fully pleased with his own, but he blushed as he said he liked hers very, very much.

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Damon groaned, sitting up in his dormitory, feeling a pain on his chest, wondering what on earth he'd done the night before. The sound of humming beside him drew his immediate attention, and he turned to see Caroline, topless, and he found he couldn't breathe at the sight of her.

Partly because he ached to touch her, but partly because he saw the tattoo of a claw on her chest, and he remembered in a horrible flash why he had pain on his own skin.

Was it worth getting a drunk tattoo with his female friends to see Caroline like this right now? Damon wasn't totally certain, but he fought his fear of upsetting her and warmed his hands before gently touching her pale, perfect skin. Her happy sigh egged him on, and Damon decided the tattoo was absolutely worthwhile.

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Ourania accepted Stewart Ackerley's flowers and his very early request that she go to Hogsmeade with him on Valentine's Day, and she felt very pleased with herself as she went to the library.

"I can't believe you waste your time on that wet blanket," Aeson Lestrange said, glancing at the flowers as he sat down across from her. Ourania raised a questioning and annoyed eyebrow at her best friend's complicated cousin, and he leaned forward. "Give Caro a message from me, will you?"

"Deliver it yourself," she said, sniffing and flipping open the book she needed for her essay. "Or are you too afraid?"

Aeson's nostrils flared. She loved how easy it was to rile him, how easy he would be to control, just with his ego and his utter desire to prove he was better than Caroline at everything.

"No," he hissed. "I just think it would be better coming from you. Just tell her Brontes needs to speak with her, will you?"

Ourania hummed, frowning at him as she said she supposed it was something she could pass along. She didn't understand why Brontes couldn't just track Caroline down himself, but she supposed these ancient families could be so fussy about public propriety. Aeson didn't leave right away, his obvious distaste for Stewart's flowers not lost on her.

"What?" she snapped.

"They're just so…tacky," he said, his brow knit as he considered them. "So cheap. I never would have guessed…."

"Never would have guessed what?" she said, getting more than a little bit sick at how he was picking on poor Stewart, who at least made an effort. It was miles ahead of most blokes their age.

"Never would have guessed you'd be the type to settle, Prewett," Aeson said leaning over to continue his whisper as he stood. "That's all. Don't forget to pass the message to Caro."

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Sirius shook his head, laughing as Remus and Severus watched James spit his tea clear across the room.

"I'm sorry, she got a tattoo _where_?" James said, incredulous.

"On her chest, apparently," Remus said, and Sirius nodded, still laughing.

"The only really funny thing," Sirius said, grinning as he sat down and picked up his own tea, "is Caro thinks she's clever enough for me to not know. I'd recognize the scent of tattoo balm anywhere after the drunken drama of '75."

James winced and absently rubbed at his bum, which caused Remus and Sirius to explode with another roar of laughter.

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Blaise looked over the letter from Ginny, which confirmed that they were going to meet up as usual on Valentine's Day. He licked his lips, checking his calendar, writing her initials in on the date, then immediately crossing to his closet. Draco could tease all he wanted, but as far as Blaise was concerned, getting what one wanted began with confidence, and confidence began with the right attire.

He picked out clean black robes of a quality material and classic design. He pulled out a pair of pressed black trousers and a fine black shirt to go with the robes, and then he made plans to get a room at the Three Broomsticks for the night. If it were after her exams, he might bring her to his own place, but she wouldn't want to be away from the school so long. If all went well – and Blaise was confident it would – Ginny would be spending the night with him, and he wanted to get a room set up before it was all booked.

Then he decided that perhaps he would get a manicure the day before, as well. Draco wouldn't know to tease him for that one, but Blaise knew the value of well-cropped, clean fingernails when it came to making love. No detail was too small.

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Dorcas took her mail as she sat down at work, and she opened a few basic letters, typical of a woman in her station at the ministry. She picked up another letter, in a thick, elaborate envelope, and she couldn't help smiling to herself as she took out the inner envelope, carefully opening that.

A wedding invitation, and a beautiful one at that, for the marriage of Harry James Potter and Catherine Lena Black.

She closed her eyes, having completely forgotten the small, innocuous tribute to Marlene McKinnon that Cara had insisted including in their daughter's name, the way Sirius insisted including a tribute to Caradoc Dearborn in Jason's middle name.

She pulled out the RSVP and filled it out right away, knowing there was nothing in the world would keep her from such an occasion, especially given whose wedding it was. Yes, they were friends of her children, but they were the children of her friends, her comrades from a time in her life where she was never sure who had her back. She was certain Fabian wouldn't think twice about her accepting without talking to him first, and she moved on to the rest of her work, feeling a rush of excitement that for once, just for once, something truly beautiful would come out of all the mess they'd all suffered. Perhaps that next generation would be well and truly untouched by the things their grandparents had to fight.

 **A/N: So, everyone conspires for Colin and Rhea, relationships teeter on the brink of dissolution and discovery, and tattoos have been brought into the picture, a la Caroline.**

 **Review Prompt: What do y'all think of tattoos? I don't have any moral issue with them myself, except for one very creepy episode of the X-Files, but I'm very creeped out by the idea of my getting one, so I know I never will.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: In Muggle schools they are taught the dangers of drugs. Why not here? (Asma20)**

 **A: This is a very interesting question, and a bit of a complex answer. There are several reasons I decided not to bother with the drug education. One is that we also had sex education in Muggle schools, and they didn't get that, either. Hogwarts is very remiss in some areas of student education.**

 **Another reason is that despite drug and sex education in school, many students I knew partook of premarital sex in high school (even some in middle school) and even more students I knew partook of drugs at those ages. The drug education made me pathologically afraid of meth, but I'm not pathologically afraid of other drugs, and have even tried small amounts of minor drugs. It's not really my thing, but I have friends who love drugs. I'm not passing a moral judgment on drugs in general here, but I can honestly say that Padma's use is NOT okay.**

 **And I imagine Severus does have a…chat when his more advanced students reach a certain level of brewing, reminding them of the legal dangers of being caught making drugs. His responsibility to know that they are aware of those sorts of consequences. But let's be real, teenagers have never been appropriately afraid of consequences.**

 **To put a long answer short, drug education would have made not a jot of difference in Catherine's decisions, and might have only made a tiny difference in Harry's decisions. They have an unfortunate capacity of believing they're bigger than consequences, even when they try not to.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	118. Inevitable

**A/N: Here's Bonus 14!**

 **-C**

Padma gave them a Hogsmeade visit off, not strictly speaking out of the kindness of her own heart, but to take an opportunity to watch what their life was like without her in it. It had been so long since she observed them without their realizing she was around, she thought it might be good idea to observe on a Valentine's Day.

Harry had a day off work, and Catherine had a day off school, and he showed up at the Hogwarts gates to meet her with a bouquet of a blue flower Padma had never seen before. The sight of the flowers caused Catherine to grow instantly emotional, and she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. Padma could see the stone of the engagement ring glittering in the little sunlight through Scotland's clouds, and she focused on that instead of on the way Catherine was kissing her fiancé.

The fact Catherine loved Harry was irksome at best. Padma wasn't really interested in love anyway, more devotion, and she had long since decided she could have the devotion of someone who loved someone else. Harry said something in a low voice to Catherine, who nodded, kissing his face before she linked her fingers in his.

From watching them, they could be perfectly normal young lovers, Padma mused. Yes, Catherine had the best of everything, but her jeans and her jumper wouldn't tell anyone she was one of the wealthiest witches in Britain. Only the engagement ring and its size would have said either one of them was disgustingly rich. And the innocence of how they walked together toward the sweet shop wouldn't have told anyone they were even a bit kinky, much less mildly dependent on something well outside social norms for their sexual kicks.

Padma smirked to herself, pulling the balaclava over her nose as she followed them up the street. Their voices were still low, and Padma noticed how some students stopped to watch them as they passed. It was interesting to Padma how some ordinary shoppers who were well old for students stopped to watch them as well, and she was able to fully appreciate for the first time just how significant they were in the wizarding world.

She had been somewhat aware from the way the papers took such interest in their engagement, but that could have been said for anyone of their eligibility. But Catherine had become something of a celebrity outside of her family name for her beauty and the news she had generated thus far, and if Harry hadn't been somebody before, his Quidditch prowess had certainly made him somebody incredibly significant.

They went into the sweetshop and Padma wondered whether she could get away with following them inside. She decided against it, as the balaclava would be difficult to pass off inside, even in a wizarding town. In the Hog's Head, perhaps, but not so much at Honeydukes.

Catherine could be seen through a shop window ogling at a chocolate display, and Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, saying something to her, which Padma could only imagine was telling her to grab whatever she liked. Padma wondered what it would be like, to not have to think about money. It must be nice, not having that simple thing to worry about like the rest of the world did. She hummed to herself, mostly to warm up her nose slightly with her breath inside the deceptively thin fabric of her balaclava.

She window-shopped at the clothing store across the way until she could see the reflections of Harry and Catherine leaving the sweet shop, laden with purchases. They were walking closer together, heading to the Three Broomsticks. Padma found this irksome, as she would have a hard time getting way with covering her face in there, as well, and Catherine was old enough to be served alcohol even in the Three Broomsticks. Padma hoped they hadn't gotten a room, mostly because she was hoping they would have sex at the Shrieking Shack where she could sneak in and at least listen, if not find some way to watch.

She went to the tea shop and took a seat, taking off her balaclava and pondering what her next step would be as she waited to see what the couple would do.

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Catherine led Harry upstairs, unlocking the room, feeling her heart race as she could hear Harry's heavy breath behind her. She began peeling off her jumper as soon as she heard the door lock and he groaned, kissing the back of her neck, burying his face in her hair and whispering how much he loved her. She licked her lips, reaching back to caress his face. She turned around and smiled at him, watching the hunger in his eyes that never ceased to make her feel dizzy with excitement.

She was slightly disappointed they didn't have Bliss for this, but she kissed him and she felt him moan against her lips, his hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

Strange to think in a matter of months now they would be man and wife, sharing a bed all the time, not needing to sneak around her father to be together.

"C'mon," she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Your turn."

He laughed pulling off his jumper and undershirt in one smooth motion while she kicked off her shoes. She smiled and watched his pale skin as it was revealed to her. He'd been on the cover of a Quidditch magazine aimed at young girls interested in the bodies of the athletes, and she had laughed at the idea anyone other than her wanted him. It was ridiculous, because she knew the kinds of bodies those girls all thought they wanted. She wondered what they would make of his knobby knees, or whether they would even see them through all the galleons he was worth.

He kissed her with eagerness and she sighed, pleased he was all hers.

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Ginny sat in a hotel room with Blaise, watching his face reflected in the bathroom mirror as she laid back on the pillows. The fabric wasn't like his sheets, not as luxurious or as comfortable, but she hardly noticed as she watched him splash his face with some water. She wondered about his little ritual before making love, but she didn't ask. Instead, she waited patiently for him to towel his face and return to the bed. She admired his chest, admired his face, admired the hunger in his eyes as he looked at her mostly-bared body.

"Have you applied for any jobs?" he asked, kneeling beside her on the bed, his fingers tracing her skin anxiously.

"I've been thinking of doing Quidditch trials," she said, reaching up to touch his jaw, tracing her fingers along it. "Harry thinks I could make the Harpies, which is pretty high praise. I might not start right away, but I could work my way up. He's been talking to Gwenog Jones, and she'd be willing to drop by one of my matches to take a look."

He hummed. She knew he was humoring her, pretending to care about Quidditch. Still, she appreciated that he made the effort to show interest in the things she loved. He was done talking pretty quickly, though, kissing her neck and pressing kisses down her collarbone, down to the edge of her bra. His hands peeled away her bra and knickers carefully, his lips eagerly exploring every inch he uncovered, and Ginny closed her eyes, relaxing and feeling him as he explored. She sighed, running her hands in his hair, thinking about where she wanted to go, tips Catherine had given her, ideas she'd read about in magazines and a book Catherine bought her for Christmas.

She only wished Blaise wouldn't have to rush off for any reason, because she wanted to make this last quite some time.

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Natalie was growing increasingly frustrated with Jason as they dated, but she knew they cared about each other, and she'd long felt very lucky to be with him. But when they were in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, she knew they were done. He seemed to know it as well, by the way he looked at her when she made a sound of disgust at a little Daydream Charm he said he'd rather like to try.

They were different people, she realized. The world he came from, the people he was blood with, they were nothing like her people. Natalie hadn't thought that would matter, but she'd never been comfortable at his family's manor, and he would never have been able to fully separate himself from the buzz around his family, around his sisters, around his father. He would become the patriarch of one of the oldest houses in wizarding England, maybe in the wizarding world, and she was just…just Natalie.

"I don't want to resent you," she said softly.

"I agree," he said as they walked out of the shop.

"Maybe we can be friends again?" she said.

His eyes were solemn, but he nodded, and she felt a strange sense of lightness and relief, better than anything she'd felt in months.

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Caroline sat a bit closer to Damon in the Three Broomsticks, smirking to herself as she realized he was looking around to be sure her father or one of her father's friends wasn't watching before kissing her.

"I really like the tattoo on you," she teased, tracing her fingers on his jaw. "It's very…exciting."

Damon smiled weakly and said, "Damn, Caro, you've no idea how seeing yours…."

He bit his lip, obviously embarrassed he'd started saying anything at all. Caroline sighed, kissing him again before he had a chance to look around, and then she asked if he'd get them more drinks.

One of the things she loved and adored about Damon was that he was almost shy with how much he wanted her. It was clear that he was interested in her in a sexual way, but he was afraid to press the matter, perhaps afraid of hurting her, or pressing her, or scaring her – if such a thing could be done.

Caroline wondered how far she wanted to press Damon, though. If she did proposition him in any way, would she press or scare him? He was more delicate than she was, certainly, but would he respond well to the sexual pressures, or would he fold? She'd tried getting advice from Catherine, but her sister only told her that she was too young, and said when the time was right, she would know what to do. Caroline hated it when Catherine told her she was too young for anything, which made Caroline all the more determined to find a way to get Damon up to the next level.

When he returned with the drinks she placed her hand on his thigh and whispered, "When we're done with these, d'you want to go back to your dormitory?"

She could see his eyes widen slightly and could hear his breathing change as he slowly nodded, his ears turning red.

Oh, she had him, alright.

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Stewart was lovely, but Ourania did know a bit of what Aeson was talking about. Stewart was sweet, attentive, but a bit…plodding. She knew Caroline totally dominated Damon, and she thought it might be fun to have the same kind of relationship, but she did understand where Aeson was coming from. Ourania wasn't like Caroline. She'd never had the same hunger for dominance, nor had she ever had an especial knack for it. She liked excitement, fun, maybe a hint of danger. She wasn't sure if these were things that would build a great relationship, but she tried not to let Aeson in her ear too much. Stewart was sweet, steady, and a good option until she figured out what she wanted.

And he bought her chocolate. It would do for now.

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Blaise watched Ginny sleep. He pulled a bit of hair from her face that was sticking to her sweaty skin, and he thought of the future, of the possibilities available to him. Knowing Potter's engagement to Catherine Black was always in Ginny's mind, that the girls were gossiping and planning for the wedding – which was billed as the social event of the season, with the invite being the most coveted thing in years – Blaise couldn't help thinking what Ginny would look like with a ring on her finger. His ring, preferably, with her last name becoming Zabini.

It occurred to him Ginny was the sort of woman who might prefer to keep her surname, and he wondered if he would mind that. He was rather proud of his surname, even though the man who gave it to him and his mother had been out of their lives since not too long after Blaise was born. It had a beautiful sound, though, and her full name with his surname….

Ginevra Zabini.

What woman wouldn't want such a name?

He'd talk her into it, he decided, kissing her temple. First he had to coax her into marrying him. It would all be easy from there. But when the time was right.

/-/

Harry smoothed Catherine's hair away from her face, watching how peaceful her expression was. Every day, he thought happily. Every morning for the rest of his life, once they were finally married, he would wake up to this. It was hard to believe, sometimes, that they'd come from the Great Prank War to this, from his firm belief he would never back down to his utter willingness to give her anything and everything she desired without hesitation.

He shifted slightly to kiss her fingers right around the ring he'd agonized over, praying it would be the perfect one for her, exactly what she wanted. He was mildly relieved that while Catherine was not any less demanding than Caroline, she was far less particular. Harry didn't pity Damon when the time came.

Harry's mind began projecting forward a life with Catherine, maybe even after he had to retire from Quidditch, when he was too old to be at his best. They would have children, he decided, and a dog. Maybe two dogs. And their children would look just like their beautiful mother, and he would never deny them anything.

It didn't occur to him as he dreamed how much like her father he sounded in his own dreams.

/-/

Jason sat up in his dormitory, pulling out the firewhiskey his sister had slipped him for just this very occasion. She'd tried to give him cigarettes as well, but Jason had declined that particular charity. Whatever Catherine felt about the things, about their father's use of the things, Jason didn't think they could help ease the aching feeling inside of him. He'd thought of asking all sorts of people about how to handle heartache, but he didn't really know anyone who'd been through it. His parents had only ever dated each other, his friends and siblings all had only dated once.

He opened the bottle and smelled the strange, spicy scent of the firewhiskey, with the smoothness underneath he knew would fool him into stupidity. It always seemed to. The spices reminded him of holidays in the Selwyn Manor kitchens, or the smell of his father's favorite cologne. He breathed in deeply, ignoring the slight burn of alcohol at the edges of his nostrils, where the delicate skin and mucous membranes were chaffed from the harsh evaporation of alcohol.

Jason took a sip, then a bigger sip, then a bold full-on gulp. He felt the drink settling in his belly, felt it filling him with warmth and a kind of burn that reminded him of his dates with Natalie. He'd desired closeness with her, companionship, but never the kind of physical and lustful passion his sisters had with their beaus. Was that some fault in him, or some fault in the relationship?

He closed his eyes and tried to think back about desire. He'd had wet dreams, he'd felt aches when he accidentally saw Dennis's porn collection. But with Natalie, none of that had been present. A warmth, a tenderness, but no burning desire for her, for joining, for touching. He couldn't wrap his head around seeing her in a sexual way. It was easier to think of Catherine's sexuality, for the sheer fact of her flaunting it like she was wearing a new coat or something.

But he couldn't think of Cora like that, either, he thought, laying back on the floor of his dormitory, feeling the hard floor shift the tightness in his back. He'd not realized just how tense he was until he laid down. Not Cora, nor any of her siblings or cousins, although he could recognize Ginny was uncommonly pretty in the way his sisters were unearthly beautiful.

Tracing through all the girls in his acquaintance, trying to think of them in a sexual way, proved very difficult for Jason. He knew so many girls, and he had such little reaction to all of them that he was beginning to think the fault was something in him when he thought of one girl and felt a strange stirring in the base of his torso at the thought of what she might look like topless.

Laura Madley, he thought, almost laughing. Kevin Whitby's girlfriend. Laura wasn't any prettier than Natalie. Her breasts didn't seem any bigger on the surface of things, nor her body any shapelier. Another jolt of that stirring as he thought of her body, and he felt a kind of tingling from his palms and fingers clear down to the base of his feet. Once he let his curiosity go, his mind began creating scenarios where he could touch her, see her body, run his hands all over her curves, even put his mouth on her breasts, and Jason shifted uncomfortably.

Apparently he wasn't broken after all. Apparently he was just as particular as his little sister. He felt slightly faint, and he stumbled into the bathroom for a cold shower.

 **A/N: So, Padma tries and fails to watch the Valentine's date, Jason deals with the ramifications of his relationship falling apart, and other love stories inch to higher levels.**

 **Review Prompt: Which Black child would be hardest to date? I mean, in some ways I would say Catherine, but Caroline can't be easy…**

 **Q &A: I'm out of questions, guys! Ask me things!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	119. Ashes

**A/N: Here's Bonus 15! I promise, I've tried to blend lighter moments with the darkness gathering around Harry and Catherine, otherwise I know this would be utterly unreadable. But some things…are unavoidable.**

 **-C**

Caroline pulled on a jumper, buttoning it deftly as she walked down to Hagrid's hut with her friends. Rose and Ourania had Care of Magical Creatures, and they wanted to show off their work. Damon and Caroline sometimes pacified their friends, although what Caroline really wanted to be doing right now was finding some corner of the castle where she could tease Damon to desperation until he kissed her like she was the only thing that existed in the world. She loved it when he kissed her like that.

"So what's this all about?" she asked, rubbing her scarf on her icy cheeks.

"Hagrid's got these hippogriffs," Ourania said happily.

"You showed us those last week," Damon said softly, but his sister ignored him.

"In the Forest," Rose continued, "he took us in to see thestrals the other day. Although, I didn't see them."

This caught Caroline's attention.

"How do you mean?" she asked, curious how a teacher would show students something and some of them didn't see the thing at all.

"Only people who've seen death can actually see thestrals," Ourania said eagerly. "They're what pull the carriages, right?"

Caroline gasped with excitement, but she started thinking of people she knew who might be able to tell her what they looked like.

Her parents, she realized. Harry's parents. Actually, Harry and Catherine had both seen death. This realization was slightly chilling, and she was suddenly less eager to know what they looked like.

"We're going to feed them and watch the food disappear," Ourania continued, as though Caroline's shiver had just been from the cold. "It's wicked."

Caroline nodded with acknowledgment, deciding it would be pretty cool. She asked to be sure the girls remembered the way, and they said they did. The four children looked over their shoulders to be sure they weren't followed before slipping into the trees of the Forbidden Forest. They stayed on a path, which suited Rose and Damon just fine, but Caroline could tell Ourania felt Caroline's itch to see what was between the trees, to know what existed in the forest apart from Hagrid's tamed animals.

At a fork, Rose and Ourania argued about which way to turn and Caroline saw Damon's face grow concerned. Finally, Rose relented, and they took the path to the left, which looked a bit damper, and Caroline adjusted her scarf. She really couldn't afford to be ill if she wanted to be available for Quidditch. And she needed to be available for Quidditch.

Damon took Caroline's hand, and she appreciated the gesture. She wasn't sure whether he was nervous or whether he expected her to be nervous, but she went with it, anyway.

"There's a meadow up there. Must be it," Ourania said, in a voice telling Caroline her friend was less and less sure now if they'd turned the right way.

"I don't remember a meadow," Rose said in a very small voice.

Caroline stopped in her tracks as her friends kept going. Damon's hand slipped from hers, but he didn't seem to notice as they moved toward the clearing up ahead.

Had no one else heard?

She was about to ask that very question when she heard it again, and she stood perfectly still, trying to mentally remove Ourania's voice and the noises of her friends walking from her mind. They were talking about how there wasn't a paddock so it wasn't the right clearing, but Caroline was trying to hold her breath and see if she could hear the small clicking sound again like…like…

There it was again, and she turned quickly, looking up to see a very, very large spider behind her, maybe twenty paces. She called out for her friends to run before pulling out her wand, although she didn't know what to do. There was another spider behind the one she was looking at, probably five feet again as tall and even more wide. She could feel her heart in her chest. Although Damon hesitated, he did get the girls to safety while Caroline looked around. The spiders were focusing in on Caroline, and she could feel a strange tingling in her fingers as she realized she was being circled, surrounded by very, very large spiders.

She knew a couple of spells that might take care of three of them, at the most, but nothing to take care of them all, or clear herself an escape route they couldn't fill faster than she could use it. The clicking of their pincers was almost shockingly loud, although it did not echo, dulled as it bounced off the trees.

Caroline closed her eyes, focused all her thoughts and fears and anxieties on getting away alive, on not dying, on not causing such pain for her parents, and she screamed at the top of her lungs, almost feeling magic drain from her as she shrieked. She swayed on her feet, drained, and she did not open her eyes, but she could feel a pulsing, scorching heat around her body, could hear a shriek echoing hers, but higher, all around her. She collapsed to the damp soil and clutched her hands at the earth, feeling her wand and the soil in her hands as the only cool thing in the world around her. She tried to breathe, but somehow she couldn't. She felt dizzy, and had she had her eyes open, the whole world would have begun to fade to black as her consciousness slipped away from exhaustion.

She had a tiny thought hoping Damon got out alright, and she hoped he forgave her for not letting him stay, before she passed out, her head hitting the soil as she lost all awareness.

/-/

Natalie was on her way to the library, about to start another long session of exam revision, when she saw glowing out of the window – a wild, massive glow making her stop in her tracks to figure out what it was. She felt her throat tighten as she realized the Forest was on fire, and she ran for the nearest office – Professor Black's – to get help. She was almost certain she'd seen people fleeing the trees.

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Cara knew something was terribly wrong in the pit of her stomach before Phineas Nigellus found her in the sitting room, and announced her presence was urgently required at Hogwarts.

She'd arrived as soon as humanly possible and went to the infirmary with Remus, who kept assuring he everything would be fine, although he wouldn't tell her what had happened. Cara was sure Catherine was dead. That was the only thing that could have given her this sensation in her stomach, and it had to be Catherine. It was always Catherine.

Sirius caught her at the door to the infirmary before she could even see who was on the cot, and he pressed his forehead to hers. He was trembling, but he wasn't crying. If Catherine were dead, he would be crying, she told herself as she let him cling to her.

"What's happened?" she asked, almost a whisper as he shook against her. "Where's Kitty?"

"I'm right here," Catherine said in a smooth, stunned voice to Cara's left, and Cara breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever happened, her daughter was fine.

Suddenly, mortified, she realized she had more than one daughter, and she looked around her husband, who seemed mute, to see Caroline unconscious and covered in burns on a hospital cot, being fussed over by Poppy Pompfrey, with her brother kneeling by her side, kissing her little hand.

/-/

Astoria Greengrass was called in by Professor Dumbledore and asked to send an owl on behalf of Professor Black's wife, as the family was preoccupied.

"Yes, sir," she said, taking the letter in slightly trembling hands. She'd heard there'd been an accident, but she wasn't sure what was going on, who was hurt, or how badly. Obviously, if Professor Black's wife was present, it was one of their children, but Astoria didn't want to hazard a guess which. "To whom?"

"To Mr. Lestrange," he said, his eyes dark, their usual spark completely gone as Astoria nodded.

He was about to turn and go when she said, "Sir? May I ask…who…?"

"Caroline Black," he said, frowning slightly. "She is going to be fine, but it is going to be a very long week for her family."

"She's alive?" Astoria said, frowning. "Miss McDonald said she thought…well no one could live in a fire that size that long, could they?"

"I assure you," he said, almost smiling now, "she is very much alive, and she will eventually be fine. Please send the letter, Miss Greengrass."

She hurried to do so, her heart pounding as she wondered what on earth had happened in the forest.

/-/

Sirius paced his office, Cara sitting in his office chair. Poppy had kicked them out for the night, assuring them she would call if anything changed.

"So why were they there in the first place?" Cara asked softly.

"Damon very apologetically said they were trying to find the thestrals," Sirius said, furious with Hagrid for showing such a thing to fourth years. "They were going to feed them and watch the food vanish. And then they ran afoul of the stupid spiders."

Sirius felt a horrible tearing in him, because he was furious with his daughter and her friends for taking such a risk – albeit a risk he would have made at their age – but he was so terribly proud of the magic that burst forth from her. Albus said they would talk more about it later, when Sirius had time to rest, but essentially she had discharged the force of her magical core with an instictive attacking spell in a moment of desperation, which was something very few witches and wizards in history had been capable of.

"She looked so small," Cara said softly. "Kitty wasn't much older when she had her accident."

Sirius felt sick to his stomach, but he nodded, rubbing at his forehead as he paced. He just wanted safety for his children, and yet he'd forgotten the most important factor – they were his children, and thereby completely incapable of living comfortably in a safe world.

/-/

Dorcas was wrapping a present for Catherine's birthday as her husband explained what the school had reported to the authorities about the massive fire that had engulfed about a third of the Forbidden Forest, rendering much of it uninhabitable. Dorcas was going to have to have a chat with the centaurs about sharing the remaining land wisely, maybe some replanting efforts.

"You're telling me," she said, bewildered, "Caroline Black did all that damage by accident?"

"I know," Fabian said darkly. "Shouldn't even be possible, right? Albus says it's a once in a lifetime or so gift, exceedingly rare. Imagine how Aeson Lestrange is feeling right now. Probably pissing himself with fear for all the times he's made her angry."

Dorcas ignored the crude joke about the rivalry between the young cousins and focused on the incredible power existing within Caroline's magical core for such a thing to occur. It was possible, although probably impossible to prove, some of the strength came from the relatively weak magical core of her mother. Like it skipped a generation, which gave Caroline better odds of such a tremendous gift. She would have to talk with Albus. The implications for Muggle-born rights and social standing would be enormous if Dorcas could prove even part of the semi-formed theory swirling through her mind.

"We should send flowers," Fabian said softly.

"What?" Dorcas said, snapping out of her own thoughts. "Whatever for?"

"Well, Sirius must be a total wreck," Fabian said, and Dorcas almost laughed.

"Flowers aren't going to fix that, my dear," she said, finishing off the parcel and kissing her husband's cheek. "Send him a bottle of firewhiskey if you want to help him while she heals."

/-/

Kevin sat with Natalie McDonald, who had just finished patrols with him, the night after she saw the fire in the Forest.

"I feel terribly guilty somehow," she finally said, after chewing absently on her thumbnail for almost an hour. "I know there wasn't anything else I could have done, but maybe it's because it turned out to be Jason's sister. I mean, I didn't know it was her, did I?"

Kevin understood her anxieties. He'd felt all kinds of strange, irrational emotions while he and Laura Madley were breaking up, and he and Jason swapped patrol schedules to avoid their exes. All four of them were friends, but long hours alone together in the dead of night were not ideal after any break-up.

"She's recovering nicely," Kevin said, watching Natalie chew on her nail again. "I asked Madam Pomfrey today when I was taking a second year for a boil paste, and she said Caroline will have her magical core replenished by the end of the week, and her burns are healing rapidly. She suspects her magical core is doing a great deal of the healing, which is what's taking the core longer than usual to replenish. Professor Dumbledore's already turned away half the Department of Mysteries. They wanted to study her."

"He didn't want them to bother her?" Natalie said, smiling sadly.

Kevin laughed, shook his head, and said, "No, he didn't want Professor Black to beat them all bloody for bothering her. Think, you could have had him for a father-in-law."

Natalie paled slightly, then looked out the window, and Kevin regretted saying it. She'd liked the Black family, he knew, and they all liked Professor Black. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling, and could imagine even less what Professor Black and his wife were going through.

/-/

Dorcas sat down with Sirius, who poured her tea with a shaking hand in his office. She hadn't meant to visit him, but she felt she ought to while she was out meeting with the centaurs.

"How's Cara taking it?" Dorcas asked softly.

"Better than I am," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I mean, I always knew my children were special, but that's not the kind of special a man hopes for, you know? I mean, I could care less she accidentally burned down a forest in self-defense. I did that too, once, during the war. It's how she was caught in the middle of it, and she exhausted her magical core. I…. These kinds of things aren't supposed to happen! I mean, how much more am I going to be put through, you know?"

Dorcas did know, and she nodded, before sipping her tea and watching the tiredness in his eyes. He wasn't bothering to hide it, which told her just how tired she was. She heard he'd actually punched a representative from the Department of Mysteries squarely on the jaw.

"Sirius, I'm going to ask you something, and I'm going to beg you not to say no right off, but you don't have to say yes right off, either. Just think about it?"

"What?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I'd like…I'd like to study you daughter."

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Lucius encouraged his wife to reach out to her cousin on the matter of Caroline Black, but Narcissa refused.

"He's being inundated, Lucius. Allow the man some space."

He would never understand how soft she was with Sirius, but he did reach out to Draco to get an idea of what impact this development was having at the Ministry. Draco confirmed the Department of Mysteries was all in a tizzy, and Sirius had not only summarily denied them access to Caroline, but threatened them bodily harm if they tried.

Lucius had an idea, though. An idea Black couldn't possibly turn down.

He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and began drafting what might be a critical letter to Lily Potter, of all people.

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Natalie came into the common room in the very late hours of the night, and she paused, seeing a familiar silhouette by the fireplace. She could go right past Jason and up to bed. He might not even notice, or care, but she couldn't. Natalie sat down beside him on the sofa, and let him rest his head on her shoulder. She kissed the top of his head and caressed his hair gently.

"She's healing slowly," he said softly, "but they're still certain she'll be okay."

"I guess there's not a lot of reference for something like this," Natalie said, feeling guilt again, even though she knew none of it was her fault.

Jason hummed, and she closed her eyes, knowing he was in agony he wasn't expressing out loud. He loved both his sisters, but Natalie knew Jason and Caroline had grown up close in their way, best friends until they could go to Hogwarts and gain other friends. The things that happened to Catherine had alarmed him, but when she saw his face when he heard Caroline was near death, she thought only of devastation.

"Damon still feels horribly guilty," he said, finally sitting up. Natalie shifted slightly. Damon had more reason to feel guilty than she did, but she understood neither of them could have changed things, really. "Sometimes I think my sister will destroy him."

"No," she said, smiling sadly. "He really loves her, the way Potter loves Kitty. Love like that, it'll bend until it finds a way to heal itself, but it's not capable of destruction."

His body stiffened and she wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking, if he was wondering whether they'd ever really been in love at all if they could have fallen apart like they did over what seemed now like nothing at all.

"You should get some sleep," he said softly. "I should too."

Neither moved, but they sat silently together, staring at the dying flames, through the remainder of the night, keeping a vigil for morning.

 **A/N: So, Caroline destroys a large chunk of the Forbidden Forest, kills the acromantulas, and is officially the wizarding world's most interesting person – but she's still unconscious in the hospital wing.**

 **Review Prompt: How might this change things for Caroline's future?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Who does Jason date next? (Asma20)**

 **A: Minor SPOILER alert. I mean, it's not a massive plot point, and y'all will find out soon enough anyway. But remember how I said Kevin and Laura would matter later?**

 **Yeah. He dates Laura.**

 **Cheers!**

 **-C**


	120. To Have

**A/N: Here's Bonus 16! Remember, we've got less than 40 chapters to go in Part 2!**

 **-C**

Catherine left her mostly-healed sister to be poked and prodded some more by Dorcas Prewett and Aunt Lily, who were convinced Caroline held some important magical secrets in her core. She left her father, who was anxiously waiting for them to finish all the test results and leave Caroline alone, and Catherine went down to the Shrieking Shack, where Harry and Padma were meeting her.

Eighteen wasn't the most important year in the world, but Catherine was pleased to be turning eighteen, all the same. She arrived first, and she debated with herself whether she should undress, or wait for the others to arrive.

She didn't have to wait long enough to make a decision. Harry and Padma arrived together, Side-Along Apparition, and Harry was pretty clearly already on a half dose of Bliss, which Catherine envied. She pushed the thought aside as she greeted them each with a kiss. Padma stroked her hair and Catherine could already feel herself growing wet.

"Happy Birthday, pet," Padma said, kissing her again, which Catherine submitted to willingly, hungrily. She ached to taste Padma, to feel the satisfaction of bringing Padma to release. "Not long now, is it?"

"No," Catherine breathed, ecstatic at the reminder that it wasn't long until she graduated and could be with Harry and Padma whenever she wanted. She couldn't imagine anything more perfect.

Padma sat down on the edge of the bed and instructed Harry to wank while Catherine dropped to her knees. Harry seemed happy to do so, happy to do whatever he was asked, and Catherine half-forgot he was there as she filled the space between Padma's legs.

"That's it," Padma said, sighing, caressing Catherine's hair lovingly. "Very good, pet. That's a very, very good pet."

Catherine loved these urgings, almost as much as she loved the taste. Even without the Bliss, she hardly could imagine anything she might want more than being a very, very good pet for Padma. She could hear Harry in the background, knowing he was watching them, knowing he was experiencing pleasure watching Catherine being a good pet, and somehow that made it even more exciting.

When Padma came, Catherine was told happy birthday again and given another half dose. She was told to lay back while Harry came over to taste his fiancée, which was always one of Catherine's favorite things. He seemed twice as eager for this as he had been to wank, and Padma knelt beside them, stroking his hair. Between kisses with Catherine, Padma reminded him of the rules, of his place, of his purpose. Catherine didn't listen, focusing on sensation and the strong desire she had to taste Padma's lips again, and again, and again. She half-wished Harry didn't need all this reinforcement so Padma wouldn't have to stop kissing her.

But Padma knew best. Padma always knew best.

Catherine happily let Padma unbutton her blouse and caress her breasts, gladly watched Harry then taste Padma, all the while envious of Harry, that it wasn't Catherine's turn again.

All thoughts of Caroline and her predicament were gone. All thoughts of her father's stress and toil and pain were vanished. All that really mattered was the incredible compilation of sensation, the remarkable desire she had to please Padma, to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted. She no longer thought of being filled, because Padma had explained that she was reserved for better.

Purer.

Special.

Padma kissed her again, tracing warm, perfect fingers along Catherine's body, and Catherine resolved to do everything, anything to please Padma. She didn't even think about the other half of her dose of Bliss and how to earn it, although she would earn it anyway.

/-/

Sirius saw Dorcas out of his office, and he crossed to his quarters, where Caroline was resting after the tests. He kissed her forehead lovingly, not wanting to wake her to tell her how proud he was of her, of how brave she'd been in all the confusion and chaos.

Lily had offered to get Catherine's cake from the kitchens, and they had decided to do the special celebration in his quarters, where Caroline could partake. She couldn't go back to her routine completely for another week, and Albus had suggested she stay with her father, which Sirius had eagerly agreed to.

"Daddy?"

He hurried back out to the front room, where Catherine was, smiling vacantly out across the grounds, standing at his window. It had been several days since he'd seen her smile. He guessed she'd snuck out to see Harry earlier, and he decided he didn't really mind. After all, in a few months' time they'd be married, and if Harry could make her smile when they were all such a tired, anxious mess, then Sirius would support that.

"Hello, Kitty-Cat," he said, kissing her temple when she hugged him. "Happy birthday, darling. I wish we were able to celebrate more fully."

"It's alright," she said, obviously unconcerned. "Caro's health comes first."

When had his little girl become this mature, serene young woman? Sirius sighed, hugging her tightly.

/-/

Caroline sat with her father, curled up beside him, frowning as she rested after her exams. Catherine and Jason still had a few to go, but she was all done, and thus had her results on her father's lap.

"I'm sure I was useless," she muttered, breathing in his aftershave deeply. "None of my spells are strong enough."

"Your professors know, darling," he said gently. "It's not your fault, and you'll be better when you've had time to properly rest, recover your core."

She harrumphed as she tossed her opened results at her father, furious. He didn't ask her what was wrong, which meant he already knew.

She hadn't topped Arithmancy, but she'd gotten second. Aeson must have topped it, and she was furious, because that was one she could do without any contact with her magical core. It took all her strength not to cry as her father kissed the top of her head.

/-/

"Bit odd, isn't it?" Fabian said, watching his wife as she wrapped a graduation gift for Rhea. "She's going out into the world. Has she told you what jobs she's applied for?" He blinked. "She has applied for jobs, hasn't she?"

"Remus told me," Dorcas said, smiling. "She's more like you than you think, you know. Remus and Sirius set her up with an agent to join a professional dueling circuit on the continent. She starts in July."

Fabian wished it didn't have to be on the continent, but he couldn't stop smiling, regardless.

/-/

At the end of the OWLs, Jimmy was exhausted. Cora sat with him by the lake, and Dennis, Jason, and Natalie were chatting closer to the nearest tree. The forest still looked wrong, so much smaller, but Jimmy tried not to think about it. Every time someone mentioned the forest, Jason looked sick and Natalie seemed about to cry.

"Hard choices next year," Cora said as he began tracing his fingers through her hair.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, we've got to pick what we're doing with the rest of our lives," she said, and he could hear the frown in her voice as she looked out over the lake. "We have to decide what courses to take, which aren't worth the time and energy. It's hard, isn't it?"

"I guess," he said, kissing her hair. "I know I've got to take a lot of courses. If I pass them, I take them, and if I don't, then I have to figure out something else."

Cora told him, as she had told him repeatedly since Christmas, he would pass them. Jimmy wasn't so sure. He'd seen her father and uncle, seen what kind of people it took to be an Auror, and he would never feel clever enough, just like he never felt good enough for Cora.

/-/

Ginny rubbed her eyes, annoyed with how fresh and flawless her best friend looked. Catherine was spread out on the far side of the lake from the school with her friends, lazily smoking a cigarette like they weren't banned. Rhea had already given Catherine a disapproving speech, but Catherine just snorted and continued to smoke.

"How can you smoke those things, anyway?" Ryana said, frowning at the little rolled stick between Catherine's graceful fingers.

"They help me unwind after all this fuss," Catherine said, shifting her legs slightly on the grass. "And the smell reminds me of sex." She winked at a flustered Ryana, who obviously hadn't expected that answer. "Want a drag?"

Ryana turned red, obviously not sure what to say, and Catherine laughed, continuing to lazily smoke her cigarette as Ginny rubbed her eyes again. Catherine didn't have to care about health and study. She was too brilliant to not do whatever she wanted, and too wealthy not to cure any problems she might incur. And Ginny was far too used to it to waste energy being jealous.

/-/

Severus poured a glass of firewhiskey each for himself, Remus, and Potter. Sirius had meant to join them, but he was still nursemaiding his youngest child, although Severus suspected she might be better once her father stopped doting on her.

"Weird, isn't it?" Potter said to Remus. "I remember when Kitty and Rhea were in nappies, and now they're young women, graduating, getting jobs, getting…"

His voice trailed off and he frowned, and Severus hid his smirk behind his own glass of firewhiskey.

Getting married. Severus had already put Catherine Black's wedding date in his calendar. He wouldn't have gone, but she'd actually insisted she wanted him there, and that she'd be terribly upset if he didn't go, and he didn't think her father would allow him not to attend. Nothing was allowed to upset Catherine on her wedding day, as far as Sirius was concerned.

"Just wait until it's Caro," Remus said darkly. "Sirius will be inconsolable, having to be in the castle without his children. Never mind he spent more than a decade here without them before Kitty turned eleven."

Severus hummed, glad they still had a few years before Sirius went through that level of anxiety.

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Natalie felt small during the feast, although she knew she'd topped her year. She'd seen Jason's scores, and Laura Madley's scores, and she knew she'd only topped the year by about two points, but that wasn't why she felt small.

She was watching the Hufflepuffs – who had won the House Cup – celebrate their hero, the girl who'd earned the bulk of their points single-handedly throughout the year. Catherine Black was receiving her Potions award, and receiving a wilder set of applause than Rhea Prewett had for actually topping her year and earning more than half the school's awards.

Somehow knowing no matter how hard she tried, Natalie would never earn such respect and admiration, things Catherine had without lifting a finger, reminded Natalie how very small she really was.

/-/

Catherine waited until after the feast, after the graduation, to approach her father, who was obviously lingering, exhausted. Caroline was still sleeping in his quarters, and she knew sleeping on the sofa wasn't good for him. She touched his arm, not thinking about the fact it was where his Dark Mark was until he flinched.

"Sorry," she said, frowning. "Daddy, I know this year hasn't been easy."

His eyes filled with tears and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

"No," he said, holding her tightly. "Not the best, not the worst. Oh, but this is the hardest part, you know. When we get on that train tomorrow, you're no longer a student, and soon you're no longer just my little girl. You're going to be a young woman, somebody's wife. Damn, Kitty, I still remember holding you in my hands, a little loaf of bread with a scream like the devil. You're a woman now. A beautiful woman, just like your mother."

Catherine pressed her head against his chest and felt the beating of his heart against her face. Part of her wanted to be able to give him that, to be his little girl forever. She knew she couldn't, but some small piece of her thought perhaps that was the best thing in life.

/-/

Ritchie Coote felt a kind of emptiness as he caught the train back to London, although he didn't know how to explain it. Everyone around him seemed somber instead of pleased for summertime, and he supposed he didn't know what he would do with himself until his letter came for the next year. Some people were talking about where their families would holiday, others were talking about arrangements for their families going to the Potter and Black wedding, the event of the season.

"They're having it in France," Ritchie heard one girl from Hufflepuff say enviously. "Isn't it terribly romantic?"

"That it's in France is practical," the girl's friend said. "Her family has a property there. I've heard it's going to be a wedding present to them. What's romantic is it's a villa on the beach."

Ritchie felt a bit small when he realized he'd been one of a handful of people who'd played Quidditch with Harry Potter and not been invited, but he supposed he'd never really known Harry. He'd been so much younger, and had never been in the circles Harry valued. Still, Ritchie couldn't help wondering what there was to look forward to this summer.

/-/

James prepared for Harry's upcoming birthday, packing for the wedding and making a cake. He actually had to make two cakes, but Cara was loaning him a house-elf to help with the wedding cake.

"It's good of you," Lily said, watching him as he worked on the icing for Harry's birthday cake.

"What is?" he asked, pausing so that talking didn't upset the steadiness of his hands.

"Agreeing to all this extra work. Just because Kitty wants it doesn't mean you have to say yes."

"Yeah, I do," he said, grinning. "Just like anything you asked me for our wedding, I had to say yes. Harry would never forgive me if I made his wedding anything less than perfect, for his wife's sake. We couldn't do this for Sirius and Cate, Lily. The least we can do is give everything to their little girl."

He knew Lily understood, but he felt it very, very strongly. As a best man for his best man, he couldn't even be at Sirius's wedding, but he could give Harry absolutely everything this time around. There was no reason they shouldn't have the best possible start to their married life.

"Even Severus is going," James said, grinning and setting down the piping bag to scratch his chin and stretch. "That girl could sweet-talk even a dungeon bat to a party."

"She's not a girl anymore," Lily said thoughtfully. "She's all grown up, now."

/-/

Kevin told his mother he'd double up on studying if she'd agree to let him go to France for the wedding. She was hesitant, but he told her Laura and Natalie were going as well, it wouldn't be some kind of excuse for poor behavior, and he'd read every book forward and backward.

Finally, his mother relented and bought him new dress robes. He was going to France.

/-/

Harry blew out the cigarette smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air as he watched the moonlight over the sea. It felt strange to be back in France. He could remember with perfect clarity the way Catherine's legs had looked on their first visit, and although he'd thought them too skinny and too pale at the time, now he recognized he'd just thought it was weird back then to find them beautiful.

He heard Uncle Sirius's footsteps, and he thought about putting out his cigarette, but he didn't bother. Somehow, now they were both graduated, it didn't seem such a big deal for their parents to catch them smoking.

"Who started you on those, then?" Sirius asked, amused, when he saw the cigarette in Harry's hand.

"Your daughter," Harry said, smiling as he thought of the early days, Catherine goading him into his first cigarette, and his second, and on from there until she merely had to gesture and he was aching for one, just as he ached for her.

Sirius hummed.

"Well, at least she has good taste," he finally said, nodding to the cigarette in question. "She's got too much of me in her. Could lead half the male race off a cliff, and have them happy to do it, eh? When I was in school, I had so many girls who would have killed themselves, I mean literally kill themselves, for a few moments of my attention. I never noticed them, but I knew they were there. If you know what I mean."

Harry nodded.

"But when I met her mother," he sighed. "I mean, I was stupid about it. I cared about her, but it took other people goading me into really seeing her before I couldn't stop looking. I'm sure it was the same with you, growing up together." Harry nodded again. "Be careful, Harry. I know you love my daughter, and I love her too, but she's got a terrible power in her hands, terrible persuasion." He nodded to the cigarette again and said, "Well, you know. It'll take everything in you, but if you see a cliff coming, don't go over it. You need to be strong enough to hold both of you back from the ledge, because you're not children anymore. We can't be there all the time to save you from yourselves, or from her or…. Whatever."

Harry swallowed, and he couldn't shake this horrible sensation in the pit of his stomach that somewhere, nearby, there was a cliff he couldn't yet see clearly, and he wasn't totally sure what direction to stay toward, because it might be the wrong one.

"Tomorrow," Uncle Sirius said brightly, although Harry could see the anxiety in his shoulders as he pulled out a cigarette of his own. "The rest of your lives starts tomorrow. Fucking scary, isn't it?"

 **A/N: So, Caroline is examined, Catherine graduates, and the wedding is nigh.**

 **Review Prompt: Who's going to be the next to get married, d'you think?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: I'm interested in what will happen between Brontes and Rose, or if anything will happen. (Michand)**

 **A: I won't get into too much detail, but yes. Something will happen. It's one of the more positive somethings in this story, for sure.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	121. To Hold

**A/N: Bonus 16!**

 **-C**

Harry felt sick to his stomach as he looked out the window at the beach below. In the morning, Catherine would become his wife, and somehow knowing it was about to happen made it a lot scarier than inevitable. Neville was pouring drinks for Ron and Jason, Harry already having his in hand. In another wing of the villa, he knew Catherine was with Rhea and Luna and Ginny, celebrating her last night of freedom.

"You'll miss a second glass if you don't finish your first sharpish," Ron said cheerfully, and Harry downed his firewhiskey in one, coming back in for a refill.

"You alright?" Neville asked, dutifully pouring the glass.

Harry sat on the settee, rubbing his hands down his face and massaging his temples, knowing in less than twenty-four hours he would be in a room with Catherine, kissing every part of her body with desperation. He didn't want to be here when he could be there, but Catherine had insisted in tradition, in not seeing the bride before the wedding.

Neville was his Best Man, Ginny her Maid of Honor. The two had put their heads together on organizing all the details, and certainly everything Harry had been responsible for, like a honeymoon. It couldn't be long, as Harry had work to start, but Harry had insisted they stay in France when the guests left, have the villa to themselves. Something about the place seemed to be a magical veil over them, a kind of shield from the outside world.

"So many people," he muttered, accepting his drink. "How can we have so many people at our wedding?"

Neville smiled weakly and Jason said, "You know how these things are, Harry. Family, extended family, classmates, co-workers, friends, family of all of the above. There are obligations."

As far as Harry was concerned, his only obligation in the world was a promise he made to Uncle Sirius about Catherine's happiness, a promise me meant with his whole soul. Keeping that promise, keeping her safe and happy, was everything.

"I'm a bit jealous, actually," Neville said, still smiling weakly. "Not…not Kitty, and not the circus, but the wedding. I've toyed with the idea of asking Hermione."

"Good for you!" Ron said, three drinks in already. "Don' let her ge'away."

Harry and Jason exchanged amused looks and moved together toward the window again, both sitting beside the glass panes that showed a scene of tranquility. How could the world be so at peace when Harry's innards were doing the conga?

"Kitty's the hardest and easiest woman in the world to love," Jason said softly. "I love my sister, but she'll demand, Harry. She'll expect. She'll own you."

"Something I think you know," Harry said, smiling, "about Damon and me both, is we're so terribly happy to be owned by your sisters. You're normal, Jason. Some days I pity you. You'll meet a nice, normal girl, have a nice normal wedding, live a nice, normal life. You'll never know the rush of…the madness of belonging to someone completely, to know you would do anything, everything for that person, damn the consequences."

"I've seen it," Jason said, frowning. "My parents, they're both like that. I'm not sure I'll ever know, or want to know, all the things my father has done for my mother, or my sister. I'm certain only a fraction of it has been legal. But Kitty, she can love you. She can be your wife and accept your devotion and feel tenderness and whatever, but she'll never feel that about you. She would never…sacrifice to the extremes you're thinking. You know that?"

"Yes," Harry said, his mind flooded with the Shrieking Shack, the first time taking Bliss because Catherine so badly wanted him to take it, to understand her devotion to Padma.

Because Harry was almost certain Catherine would make those sacrifices for Padma, not out of love. Out of devotion. She loved Harry, but she belonged to Padma. And because he belonged to Catherine, he belonged to Padma, too. And he knew Jason could never understand. Maybe that was for the best.

/-/

Brontes dressed for his cousin's wedding with trembling hands. He wasn't afraid of how he looked, or how the wedding would go, but he couldn't stop trembling. He told himself it was nothing, and he would simply have a nice day in France, celebrating Catherine's joining to Harry Potter, but he knew that someday, someday terribly soon, he would have to have a wedding like this in England, probably at their family home.

He felt mildly nauseous as he realized this, not because he was afraid of marrying, or worried about the wedding, but he was afraid of what he would tell his mother.

How was he supposed to tell his proud, slightly-snobbish mother he knew exactly whom he wanted to court, and she was a Muggle-born from a family of no particular importance, and a Hufflepuff, nonetheless?

No, she wouldn't like it, although he thought his father and uncle would be supportive. He could never have a quiet wedding, never live a small, simple life, because he knew his duty too well. But Brontes couldn't imagine spending his life with anyone other than Rose Zeller.

He finished doing up his dress robes with his woefully shaky hands, and he ran into his brother in the corridor.

"You look sick," Aeson said cheerfully. "Don't be late. Caro and Granger and Cotton are already ushering."

Brontes grunted and made his way down to the ballroom.

/-/

Draco watched Harry's face carefully as he came down to take his place in front of the crowd. Harry looked slightly ill, and he kept wringing his hands. Biting his tongue, Draco was glad he hadn't sought out Harry to make a joke about perhaps Catherine changing her mind and leaving Harry at the altar. It didn't seem right to make such a joke when Harry seemed to be all in a tizzy.

Aunt Cara was sitting in the front row, beside Harry's parents, head held high and a pleasant smile on her face. Draco wondered vaguely where this rated in days of her life. Probably near the top.

/-/

Severus stood with Sirius in the corridor, waiting for Catherine to come down the staircase, ready to be led to her husband-to-be.

"I feel sick," Sirius said softly, and he certainly looked ill.

Severus said nothing, simply slipping his hand into Sirius's pocket and taking out the cigarette case, slipping it into his own pocket. Sirius gave him a look that plainly said he felt betrayed, but Severus raised an eyebrow.

"When she and Potter have retreated from the reception, by all means. Half-smoke the whole bloody pack. But while your daughter is being married, while she is celebrating, do her the service of holding yourself together."

Sirius sighed and nodded, running his fingers through his hair and glancing up the staircase to where Catherine was gathering her gaggle of bridesmaids behind her.

She looked like a princess, Severus thought vaguely before she walked down the staircase regally, smiling at her father, the only person she had eyes for. Sirius wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead before lowering the veil over her face.

"You're beautiful," Sirius sighed, unable to stop smiling, a genuine, blissful smile. "So, so beautiful, darling."

"Thank you, Daddy," Catherine said, slipping her arm into her father's, accepting her bouquet from the Weasley girl. Severus watched them line up for the procession before slipping quietly into the back of the guests, seated and gossiping in whispers they likely thought were discrete.

/-/

For Catherine, the ceremony was a blur. All she could think of was the adoration and devotion in Harry's eyes as they listened to the service, all eyes watching them, and as they said they would do the things the officiant listed off. They knew the things, so there was no point listening to them. When they exchanged bands, and Harry's hand was in hers, the officiant declared them bonded for life.

Catherine felt a swelling in her chest, a strange, dizzying sensation as the bond was created, and she could see from Harry's face he'd felt it, too. They kissed in full sight of everyone, and Catherine didn't want to let go of him as the watchers clapped, cheered. One of the Weasley twins even wolf-whistled.

They stayed close together as the reception started, and she felt slightly dizzy at the number of people around them. The crowd made her feel closed off, and Harry must have sensed her anxiety, because he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"They're here to celebrate us, Cat. No one's going to hurt you."

She murmured her agreement and understanding, and she greeted her tearful mother, who made a beeline for them as soon as possible.

"Oh, Kitty," her mother said, kissing her face. "You're so, so beautifully."

"Catherine Potter," Uncle James said, coming behind their mothers, grinning. "It's got a nice ring to it."

Catherine wished she could find something to say, but she just smiled and nodded, wondering how long the reception would be. She wanted desperately to get somewhere quiet.

/-/

Brontes kissed his cousin's hand and congratulated her on her nuptials. Catherine was very gracious in her acceptance of his well-wishes.

"Your father," she said, smiling a smile that was only just not a smirk, "has given us a secret gift. Don't tell your mother. But I didn't have a chance to thank him, and I don't know we'll hang around any longer than we have to, so could you be a dear and thank him for us?"

Brontes said he would, and he didn't have to guess what it was. He knew his father had given her some very expensive tobacco – a little joke he could lord over her father.

/-/

Caroline knew all eyes were on her sister and her new brother-in-law, but she was keeping an eye on her parents. Her father seemed on the verge of tears all night, and she knew from the way he was watching Catherine, they were going to have to pry him away from the villa that evening.

Her mother, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm, totally at ease – except for her shoulders. Just the slightest tension in them, but Caroline could see it, see right through it. She took Damon's arm when he offered it to her and she said, "Can you think of a way to lighten the mood?"

"Why?" Damon asked, puzzled. "It's a perfectly beautiful wedding."

Caroline smiled despite herself at what a wonderfully sappy romantic her boyfriend could sometimes prove himself to be. She hoped he wouldn't insist on this sort of wedding, when their time came. His status was high, but neither of them had political and social capital like Harry and Catherine, so they should be able to escape this kind of austere, ministerial, almost sanitized event.

"Don't worry," Damon said, smiling slightly. "George told me everything will lighten up soon."

Caroline narrowed her eyes, wondering what George Weasley was doing to lighten up the wedding. Harry had expressed his anxieties George might try to object to the marriage, which he mercifully didn't do. So what else was there?

"Apparently," Damon said in a low voice he usually only used in library or when they were alone together doing naughty things, "Catherine and Harry decided they couldn't pass up on the tradition of the garter removal, Harry going under her skirt in public. I imagine some of the old guard will be apoplectic. I'm waiting for Snape to choke on his tongue."

"Oh, darling," Catherine sighed, grinning as she patted the side of his face condescendingly and lovingly all at once. "Darling, it would take so much more than that to faze dear Severus Snape. He was, after all, contracted to my sister. And let's not forget how often she and Harry would sneak off to have sex."

Damon looked about ready to choke on his own tongue, which Caroline found adorable.

/-/

When the cake was cut and the champagne was exhausted and the bulk of the guests had gone home, Lily lingered, watching Sirius as he stood in the entrance hall, staring up at a portrait of some long-dead ancestor without really seeing the thing, clearly thinking about their children, who were in their nuptial bed at that very moment.

"We should leave them to it," Lily said softly, knowing she'd startled him, even though he didn't start.

Sirius hummed, his hand twitching toward the pocket where he kept his cigarettes, but he restrained himself. No doubt the pair would smoke plenty for the whole family that night between them.

"Did you have a good wedding night?" Sirius asked softly, and Lily felt her cheeks go red. It wasn't the way she would have described it, not that she had ever planned to, as she and James had both been too exhausted for anything too glamorous.

"It was pleasant, if that's what you mean," she said carefully. "I think these things are rarely what we anticipate them to be. Fantasy can be devilish."

"I didn't dare anticipate anything," he whispered, closing his eyes. "We were in a house full of…of…. Well, her family was there, and mine. Seeing her body was…."

Lily frowned when his face contorted in pain, and she realized that it must have been the first time Cara had seen his Dark Mark, the first time the reality of what he'd done had touched their relationship. Sirius had been so broken then, so fragile, and Lily couldn't imagine what it had done to their wedding night, having that thing touch their marriage.

"They're not like us," she said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the softness of the expensive fabric of his dress robes. "They have the whole world before them, all manner of possibilities. They don't have to be afraid."

"She's not a Black anymore," Sirius said, his voice strangled as he held his eyes shut, probably to hold in tears. "She's a woman, and she's…she's…."

"She's a Potter," Lily teased, kissing his cheek, which had already begun to stubble slightly, despite his shaving particularly for the wedding. "Scary thing, that, isn't it?"

He gave a weak chuckle and she kissed his face again, feeling his arms wrap around her. Lily decided she would let him tremble and fight his tears for a little while longer before dragging him back to England. He'd come a long way, but Catherine was still his baby, and nothing could have made the blow of giving her away any easier, even knowing that it was Harry, even knowing that she was loved and cared for, even knowing that she still looked at him like the slayer of all her childhood dragons.

Sometimes, Lily supposed, there was just no way to soften the blow.

/-/

Harry kissed every bit of Catherine – his wife, he thought with another grin – that was available to him from where he was, between her legs. He peppered her thighs with kisses hugging her left leg as she ran her fingers through his hair tenderly.

"I love you," he whispered, feeling a strange sense of urgency he couldn't quantify.

"I love you, too," she sighed, and he could hear her smile. If only she only ever smiled like that, he mused.

The urgency seemed to freeze his chest, like someone poured ice water down his insides in the cold of December. Without knowing why, he sat up, blinking at her and feeling almost a panic as his pulse throbbed in his throat.

"Let's get away," he said, lifting her delicate hands to kiss her fingers.

She narrowed her eyes at him, bemused.

"Harry, we are away. We're in France, remember?"

"No, I mean…away," he said, his voice dripping with that urgency he couldn't explain. "Far. We could go to…to… Australia."

"Everything tries to kill you in Australia."

"Canada, then," he said, not bothered. "South Africa. New Zealand. Even America. Let's just…go."

Catherine sat up with him, clearly puzzled, slightly concerned.

"Harry," she said gently, "I thought you wanted to honeymoon in France. This is very…sudden."

"I don't mean the honeymoon," he said, still not sure what force was driving these words off his tongue, but he knew he felt them with all his heart. "I mean…forever. Let's just…go somewhere. You and me. Never come back."

This truly did startle her, and he could see alarm in her beautiful gray eyes.

"Harry, we…we can't just leave. We have a life in England. Your Quidditch. And the shop Severus has set me up with. And our families are here. Everything…. I mean, what good would come of leaving?"

His voice seemed to vanish for a moment, but he sighed, burying his face in her abdomen, feeling her hands go immediately to the back of his head, petting his hair.

"I don't know," he said, smiling bitterly. "It was a stupid notion, probably. The champagne talking, I guess. I…I just feel like this, right here, right now, is perfect, and I don't want it to end. I don't want there to be anything but just you and me ever again."

Catherine sighed, and he felt her kiss the top of his head. He closed his eyes as her fingers brushed his ears in their caressing of his hair.

"Darling," she said gently, "no matter what, nothing will ever change. I will always love you, and you will always love me, and so in a way, we will always be here, like this, no matter where we really are."

"I know," he said, feeling the urgency dissipate as she stroked away his cares with each pet of his hair. He felt his mouth watering for another taste of her. "I said it was stupid."

"That's alright," she said gently as he kissed back down to her thighs before she spread them slightly, waiting for his tongue. "Besides, Harry, we wouldn't want to go anywhere without Padma."

He felt a strange sensation of a flare of the previous urgency with a powerful jolt of worshipful desire at the thought of taking Padma with them, the three of them running away to some other distant country where no one could follow them. At first he wasn't so sure, but Catherine sighed, saying how she wished Padma were there right then, and he couldn't help agreeing with her.

Because he loved Catherine, loved her taste, but Padma tasted better. He needed Padma. How foolish he was to even begin to think they could live without her.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine are married, Brontes has a realization, and Sirius struggles with letting go. Want more updates? Still plenty of week to earn more bonuses!**

 **Review Prompt: Harry's not responding as Padma would like to the drugs and training…. What do you think it will take for him to snap?**

 **Q &A: My question collection is dry! Ask me anything.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	122. Questionable

**A/N: My dear** _ **AvinaNox**_ **snuck in our Bonus 18! Still time to earn more!**

 **-C**

Jason opened his letter and reviewed his booklist, ignoring the triumphant sounds his younger sister made when she opened hers. It wasn't until he looked up to ask when they were doing their book shopping that he saw she had not one badge, but two.

Caroline was a Prefect and Quidditch Captain.

It was the sort of thing Professor McGongall would never have done. She would have maybe given Caroline one or the other, but she wouldn't have given her both. Caroline was the kind of girl who really shouldn't be given any more power than necessary, and this was an awful lot of power.

"Excellent," she said, eagerly. "Now I'll get to use the special bath."

"You'll get to use it within the rules," their father said with a small frown, obviously thinking about Damon Prewett.

Jason didn't have the heart to tell him that the special map Catherine had used to misbehave had been passed on to Caroline, with best wishes on using it well. Sure, she wouldn't have the benefits of Potter's cloak or the mirrors the pair had used, but Caroline was creative enough to find a way to compensate.

"I'm going to write a letter to Aeson," Caroline said, hurrying off. "He'll be so jealous!"

She was out of the room before their father said, thoughtfully, "I doubt it."

"Why?" Jason asked, spreading marmalade on his toast.

"Aeson is a Prefect and a Captain as well," his father said, pouring himself a glass of water. "Cat, have you had a letter from our daughter lately? We really ought to invite her to celebrate her sister."

"Kitty's very busy," Jason's mother said, smiling sadly. "Between the shop and young love, you know. I think we can get them to come, though, if we choose a time outside their work hours."

Jason smiled slightly, recognizing his elder sister no longer came by herself to anything, but as a package deal with Harry. They'd been in newspapers and magazines almost every day since they returned to England from their honeymoon. She would attend his matches, or he would go with her to charity functions she decided were worth her time and attention, notably his mother's work and any work to do with werewolves. Nothing, Jason knew, meant more to Catherine than making Uncle Remus's life better, as far as politics and charity were concerned.

"Too bad England had to go against Ireland in the qualifiers for the cup again," his father said, frowning at his water glass. "I really want to see Harry play in a proper World Cup match. What's the use in his being called up for the team if they're just going to be pummeled by Ireland?"

"He's a much better Seeker than Lynch," Jason's mother said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "It's just a shame England doesn't have Chasers to match those Irish chasers."

"Moran's retiring, though," Jason said, perking up, recalling what Ginny had told him the other day when they had lunch with some of the Weasleys and Prewetts. "So maybe there's a chance soon for someone else to do well."

/-/

Aeson read quickly over the letter detailing expectations for him as both a Prefect and a Quidditch Captain. Before he asked to write to Caroline so he could lord it over her, his father warned him she'd been given both of the same privileges, so he'd decided to wait for her letter, instead.

"Lots of work for you this year," Brontes said quietly, watching Aeson as he set down his expectations letter.

Aeson looked up and raised his eyebrows.

"I suppose you could look at it that way," Aeson said slowly. "I prefer to see the positives. Namely, I have a considerable amount of power and leverage now. And all three of us have been Prefects now, but I'm the only one who has earned two badges, and I'm bound to win a third."

Brontes said nothing. Granted, Aeson's brother could still earn a Head Boy badge in a year, but he'd never get to be a Quidditch Captain.

"Mother told Father Adra hasn't stopped crying since the letters came."

Aeson felt a stab of sympathy for his sister, especially given all the press their cousin had been getting since her rather glamorous, publically touted marriage. Adrasteia had yet to attract any reasonable requests for her hand, both in conventional or more modern respects, and Aeson knew she was beginning to despair that she would die an old maid. She couldn't even turn Blaise's head, besotted as he was with Ourania's cousin.

"We need to find her someone," Aeson said darkly, "but I can't think anyone I like enough to invite into the family, but like little enough to saddle him to Adra for the rest of his life."

"Nor I," Brontes said darkly, "but I think we'll think of someone. I'm going to sneak a look at mother's wishlist of husbands today, and I'll get back to you."

/-/

James felt weary, but Lily had been very supportive. She spent as much of the summer as possible home with him, knowing being away at school took a lot out of him, and given the flexibility of her schedule, she had the option to keep his schedule. She helped him problem-solve some of his concerns with the NEWT level students and their expectations for their projects.

"One thing worries me more than anything," he said darkly, frowning, as Lily rubbed his temples. His head was rested in her lap, and her fingers felt like heaven.

"Hmm?"

"Sirius has confirmed, Caro and Aeson are both Prefects."

"Ah."

"And Captaining their House teams."

"Oh. Well. Severus and Remus obviously wanted to torture themselves, there."

"More like torture the rest of us," James grumbled, knowing full well that he'd be the one it fell on to discipline them. Severus had to oversee discipline broadly, Remus had a whole House to think of, and it hardly seemed right to make Sirius discipline another daughter, especially with a nephew in the consideration as well.

Lily was probably smiling at him, maybe even smirking, but James said nothing. He was thinking of his son, who seemed to be on a cloud every time James saw him, which was bound to be less and less as James went back to Hogwarts. James remembered what it was like when he'd first married Lily. He pressed a kiss to the inside of his wife's knee, recalling what a strain it left on their early days of marriage, to have the war hanging over their heads. They still managed to have Harry, live a somewhat normal existence, but it wasn't what it should have been.

Harry and Catherine had an opportunity, he thought proudly. It wouldn't be perfect, because everything they did seemed to be in the public eye. Reporters seemed fascinated by every little aspect of them, and Harry wondered when someone was going to break into their home for some sort of scoop. James recommended some more sensitive wards to keep away unwanted reporters, but he didn't know if his son or daughter-in-law had taken the advice.

"I'll just come right out and confess it," James said tiredly.

"Never thought I'd hear those words from your mouth," Lily teased, tugging playfully at a wayward strand of his hair.

James snorted and said, "Very funny, darling. No, I…I must confess, teaching is not the walk in the park I thought it would be. I know you warned me, but…I thought I had unending energy. You're always accusing me of that, but these kids, Lily. They're…impossible."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "You're not as young as you used to be, James. You're not twelve anymore. I mean, you're not even eighteen anymore. You're old enough to be a grandfather any time." James shivered and she tugged playfully at his hair again. "We weren't much older than them when we conceived Harry, you know."

"Times were different," he sighed, kissing the inside of her thigh again. "Either of us could have died at any moment, and neither of us were working. If I could have spent every spare moment not fighting just making love to you, I would have."

"Lies," she teased. "You would have happy spent half of it drinking with Sirius."

James hummed, wondering as her fingers worked through his hair, whether the new world they lived in meant sooner or later on those grandchildren as his eyes grew heavy and he succumbed to the warm, pleasant sensations of impending sleep.

/-/

Sirius frowned as he settled back into his chair, waiting for the first of the students to arrive for the feast. He knew many of the students would expect Severus would abuse his power as Deputy Head to put forward a couple of Prefects from his House as Head Boy and Girl, but Sirius had to admit, Astoria Greengrass and Troy Derek were the best candidates for the job. It could have been nobody but Astoria, and while Talon Wilkes of Hufflepuff was an excellent Prefect, Astoria would walk all over him.

So would Caroline and Aeson, come to that.

"A rather unique situation this year," Severus said darkly as they waited for when he was meant to go meet Hagrid to bring in the new first year students.

"How's that?" James asked nervously, rubbing his hands together.

"He means the incoming Prefects," Remus said, frowning. "Filius did it too, picked Linos to fill in Rhea's shoes on the pitch and as a Prefect. That's a lot of power for those three."

Hardly, Sirius thought, trying not to laugh. Linos Summerbee was a good sort, and a decent Quidditch player, but he was nothing compared with Caroline and Aeson.

"Kevin Whitby is the other Captain," Sirius said thoughtfully. "He was at Kitty's wedding. Nice boy. But he's a Prefect as well, isn't he?"

"In serious contention for Head Boy next year," Severus said softly, frowning. "I expect it will come down between him and your son. Perhaps Brontes, but…the academic aspect is not as strong with Brontes."

Severus excused himself several minutes early, not because he was worried about being punctual, but because Pomona was headed their way, clearly wanting to chat, and he hated being forced to be more social than necessary. Sirius greeted Pomona happily, making Severus's excuses, as always.

/-/

Brontes began his week, first thing in the morning with his Defense Against the Dark Arts course. He kept an eye on the fifth year students, nominally because he wanted to help the new Prefects to adjust, but partially out of concern for his brother and cousin, and partially because of his interest in Miss Zeller, who was the new Hufflepuff Prefect.

Caroline and the core of her friends had History first thing with her father, as did Miss Zeller. Aeson, dangerously, had the very first slot off before he had Potions with the Gryffindors. Brontes found himself regretting that he'd opted to take Runes and Herbology to NEWT level, as he could have spent the rest of his morning finding out what Miss Zeller did with her time off class, but he would spend his Thursday mornings watching her, perhaps trying to get her engaged in conversation.

If he used his capital correctly, he thought he could talk Astoria into partnering him with Miss Zeller for their usual rounds, and Brontes felt his palms go slightly damp at the thought of having an opportunity to mentor her, talk to her, have an excuse to spend time alone with her. What his mother might think, what propriety might say…. These things didn't cross his mind as he prepared his request for Astoria, which he planned to deliver at lunch.

She would understand. She would be merciful.

/-/

Stewart Ackerley started at lunch when he heard Brontes Lestrange make a very quiet request of Astoria Greengrass as they passed the Ravenclaw table. He wasn't entirely certain he'd heard the request correctly, so he asked Orla, his counterpart in the Prefect hierarchy, if she'd happened to hear what Brontes had just said.

"Yes, I did," she said, picking at her spinach with a frown.

"Well?"

"Hmm?"

"What did he say?"

"He said he wondered if Astoria would put him with Zeller on patrols."

"What would he want that for?" Stewart wondered out loud.

Orla said she didn't know, but if he didn't leave her alone with her spinach she'd request to have patrols with anyone but him.

/-/

It took until Thursday for Detta Trimble, seventh year Slytherin, to have her first class, which was NEWT level History of Magic, right after lunch. She'd only opted to continue History because she loved looking at Professor Black, but she regretted it whenever she left his classroom, because she could no longer stare at him without someone noticing, and she would have to face up to all the work she had to do.

Like the project she had to do. It made her sick to know he'd said he didn't much care for her topic, which was an aspect of the war against You-Know-Who. Particularly, he said coolly when she'd given her proposal, it would be difficult for her to be taken seriously by the exam board if she couldn't say the name of…You-Know-Who. He had pronounced every syllable of the name with careful, almost pained precision of articulation, and she wondered if the Mark her studies told her had would ache if he spoke the name. There were rumors about such things, but even the likes of Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy hadn't consented to have their Marks studied after the war, and so much was still unknown.

She came away from her first class of the year feeling small and mildly confused with the direction her project was taking. Professor Black asked her what her plans were for it, and the problem was, she really didn't know how to answer.

/-/

Virginia Wimple sat with Anastasia Barbary, who was frowning at Aeson Lestrange, who was poring over notes he'd written up on the Quidditch team. Anastasia was frowning, leaning forward.

"He's been chatting a lot with that friend of his cousin," she hissed.

Virginia knew this was the Prewett girl, not the Prewett boy. "That friend of his cousin" was the not-subtle code Anastasia had for the Prewett girl, and Viriginia felt almost sorry for Anastasia.

The girl was quiet, but it was clear she adored Aeson, and it had all seemed so promising. She was the only person in their year he willingly spoke to, and they'd been made Prefects together. Virginia was practically hearing wedding bells and writing up the invitations.

She'd be Maid of Honor, naturally. She'd been the most supportive of the whole thing, even before it seemed bound to become a thing.

Now it seemed he saw her the same way he saw his cousin's boyfriend, with comradery, but not with any particular taste or distaste.

"I reckon I'll try for Aveline Hooper's spot," Virginia said, feeling slightly anxious about the direction of the conversation. Surely Aeson was close enough to hear them.

"I overheard them…. He was teasing her for still giving that one boy, Ackerley, the time of day, seems to think she's too good for him."

"I mean, I'm not as good of a flier as you," Virginia said, "but I'm reasonable, and really, my aim is wonderful. Remember the pineapple I broke on Warren's head last spring when he wouldn't give back Delora's scarf?"

Anastasia rubbed her temples and said, "I don't think she's all that pretty, do you? I mean, that horrid ginger hair. And her eyes are just…pale. She's…colorless. Boring. And so freckled and scrawny."

Virginia would have wholeheartedly agreed, but she could see from the way the back of Aeson's neck stiffened that he'd overheard them and wasn't impressed.

"Yes, I think I'll try out," Virginia said firmly. "Wouldn't it be something if Delora joined us next year when Detta graduates? Our whole year would be on the team, together."

Anastasia just stabbed at her salad, frowning, clearly not having heard a word Virginia had said.

/-/

Ginny sat on a sofa with Blaise, in her flat, and he ran his fingers lazily through her hair, his arms around her shoulders.

It was weird, him working for the _Prophet_ and her playing for the Harpies. Speculation ran rampant, and she didn't always know whether he would actually be available when they made plans, but life was certainly never dull.

"Valentine's Day," he said kissing the top of her head.

"What about it? It's ages away."

"I'm not taking any jobs then," he said, tracing his fingers on her shoulder. "There's no matches, and it's not on your training schedule," he said with all the sureness of someone who had meticulously gone through each calendar by which they lived their lives.

"I suppose that's your way of asking me to do something with you," she teased, craning her neck to smile up at him and kiss his lips. "I certainly think that can be arranged."

He kissed her with all the passion and eagerness he always had, and she relaxed into the kiss, smiling that he would go out of his way to plan so far in advance. They had three holidays before they came to Valentine's Day, but he wanted to make it special. Ginny knew she'd have to be stupid to argue.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as he caressed her hair some more, and she wondered what Catherine had been up to lately. It had been some time since they last had a girly night, but Ginny supposed that was one of the facts of married life. No doubt she and Harry were trying to enjoy each other as much – and as often – as possible while the whole thing was still new.

The new would wear off, eventually.

 **A/N: So, Caro and Aeson have two badges, James admits he's not as fabulous as he thought, and Harry and Catherine spend more time together or at public events than anything else…. Or do they?**

 **Review Prompt: If I were to write a fourth piece, what would you like to see? Sirius and Cara's parents' era? Perhaps a little deeper into some aspect of the childrens of these childrens? Some aspect of Sirius's childhood? IDK. I'm not saying I'm going to do it, but I have an inkling, and I'm wondering if any of you would even be interested in it…**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: When are Catherine and her friends going to get the tattoos that they agree to get in first year? (Mythology216)**

 **A: Ha, great question. They're not. Catherine is more squeamish than her baby sister in regard to that sort of thing, and where Ginny would have been all for that plan, Catherine would never have wanted it. And so many things have happened to them since, they've quiet forgotten it. And because of Catherine's many chaos points, she and her friends – even her best friends – are not as close as Caroline and her clique.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	123. Retuned Rivalry

**A/N: Here's this week's last earned bonus! You'll get the weekly update later today. Cheers!**

 **-C**

Caroline frowned at her cousin as he sat across from her, grinning. She ignored the Prewett twins, who both looked uncomfortable, and Rose, who looked a bit ill. She only had eyes for Aeson, who had just done and said the utterly unthinkable.

He had insulted her flying.

"Without the Firebolt, you'd be nothing," he said, continuing to dig a hole.

Caroline knew he was grasping at straws. Since the incident where she burned down half the forest, he'd been hesitant to raise a wand against her, even in the Dueling Club. Never mind experts, including Madam Prewett and Aunt Lily, said Caroline's daily life would not be different. Her magical core would only kick in fully during moments of extreme duress unless she went through very specific and grueling training.

And Caroline hated the word "grueling" almost as much as she hated to work for things.

"You know that's not true," she said boldly. "You've never beat me in a race."

"That was before," he said, grinning. "That broom's made you lazy, now. If we were on equal footing, I'd beat you."

This was truly absurd, in Caroline's eyes, because her cousin was a Keeper. He hardly had to move in matches, and his specialty was quick bursts and sudden changes in direction, while she had to use a much larger range of flying skills as a Seeker, including shooting well quick toward the Snitch, effectively racing every match.

Damon would say Aeson was trying to goad her into a dangerous position where she might hurt herself before the match against his team, but she knew it was never so simple. This was their lifelong struggle, who was better than whom.

"You say equal footing," she said, sitting forward, ignoring the way Damon's body tensed beside her. If he could hold his tongue, she would reward his tongue later, but for now she only wished he wouldn't complicate her battles. "What exactly do you have in mind, cousin?"

His lips twitched.

"Tonight," he said. "Race at the pitch, of course. From one set of posts to the other. We could have… Zeller and female Prewett as judges."

"Not Damon?" she teased, smirking.

"He's in your pocket, Caro," Aeson said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "His vote would be worthless. If Brontes will come, I'd like him as well."

Caroline turned this over. Brontes and Rose would be utterly fair, but Ourania would surely lean toward Caroline in any battle. Not that she was worried about it. She'd win anyway.

"When tonight?" Caroline said, leaning in. "If we do it too early, we'll be seen."

"And we can't miss the feast," Aeson agreed. "Uncle Sirius would know if we weren't there. Especially if we bring judges. How about…two hours after the end of the feast?"

Caroline considered. They wouldn't be at their sharpest, but two hours would be enough time for a quick nap in Damon's bed so that she had someone to wake her. She supposed this was reasonable.

"Deal," she said, flicking a bit of hair out of her eyes. "Equal brooms?"

"Anastasia's got the same broom as myself," Aeson said, shrugging. "I've got access to all the brooms of my team."

Caroline smirked and was going to make a joke about Anastasia Barbary and broomsticks, knowing how desperately Barbary fancied him, but somehow it would ruin the tone of the whole affair, so she held it back, sliding her hand lazily up Damon's leg and enjoying the way his muscles contracted around her hand.

"Deal," she said again. "I'll see you then."

"You certainly will," Aeson said, winking at Ourania and Rose before he left.

Caroline rolled her eyes after he was gone from their section of the library, and she leaned in, "I expect proper judging from both of you."

The girls both said they certainly would, although Rose was blushing slightly. Caroline wasn't totally sure what that was about, but she had certainly noticed Brontes's attention to Rose. She didn't know why it existed, and she wasn't sure what Rose thought about the matter, but Caroline supposed she approved. Rose was a sweet girl, and Brontes was a good sort of bloke for being a cousin of Caroline's. It would be neat to have Rose in the family, and if she could find a way to marry Ourania to Jason, she'd be set.

It didn't seem likely, with his new interest in one Laura Madley of Hufflepuff, but she supposed he'd had a breakup before. It could happen.

"I wish you wouldn't," Damon said softly, frowning, as she traced his kneecap lazily through his trouser leg.

"What?" she asked, in her best innocent voice.

"You know what," he said, frowning and looking down at the table as his hand slipped over hers with gentle warmth. "I hate all this infighting you and your cousin do. One of these days, it's bound to kill one of you."

Caroline wasn't so sure. She knew they were both jealous of Damon's eldest sister, Rhea, who was on the continent as a professional duelist. It was what Caroline wanted to do for a job, and what Aeson wanted to do for a job, and what were the odds of both of them finding sponsors in the same year? No, they weren't likely to kill each other, mostly because they needed to be on their best behavior – or best that could reasonably be expected – in order to attract a sponsor.

"Don't worry, darling," she said, kissing his jaw lingeringly and watching his pale skin flush a delicious shade of pink. "I always take care of myself. If we drop this for now, I'll take care of you later, too."

Ourania made a choking sound in playful protest and Rose's eyes went wide with shock, but Caroline only had eyes for Damon's now-red face and ears, and the way his pulse raised in his wrists and the insinuation.

She'd been promising for some time to use her mouth on him if he was good enough. She supposed this would be as good a time as any, and that it might keep her alert for the race.

/-/

James wasn't stupid. He told himself this three times a day while he was at Hogwarts, because sometimes these students made him feel utterly helpless. Honestly, it all seemed so complicated.

But there were certain students – Caroline Black, for example – who reminded him enough of his own school experiences that James felt he could see through her plots and plans.

For example, during the feast, he could sense the tension between several split factions. Aeson and his brother were both looking fairly resolute. Miss Zeller looked like she was trying to shrink into the furniture. And Caroline and her little collection of Prewetts had various kinds of tension.

James wondered vaguely if Sirius or Cara had taken out time to have a sex talk with their youngest, because he suspected she was soon at that point, if she hadn't been already. Damon's worshipful look didn't have a total tinge of innocence, but one of hunger. And Caroline had the posture of a woman on a mission all through the feast. After a small argument with himself, James decided to keep an eye on her through the night, just in case.

"Pudding?" Remus asked, passing a trifle to James, who nodded sharply and helped himself to some of the dessert. He passed the rest along and frowned back out at Caroline, who had turned her haughty expression to the Slytherin table, to her cousin, almost like a challenge.

No, James knew he'd made the right choice. He recognized that look. He'd seen the same one on Sirius's face many times, right before they took up some challenge or other with a Slytherin – usually Snape or one of his closest cronies. It wasn't the long-term planning Catherine had been famed for.

This was immediate. A gauntlet had been thrown down.

"Remus, you're patrolling with the Prefects tonight?" James asked, casually.

"Yes," Remus said slowly, eyes narrowing.

"I'd like to take a turn," James said, not looking up in case Sirius was looking his way. He'd never been able to lie to Sirius. "It'd be nice to get back into the habit, and I always loved patrolling after the Halloween Feast. Can't sleep with all this food in me."

Remus hesitated, perhaps trying to decide what James's ulterior motive was. Finally, slowly, he said, "Alright, I suppose. You know where to find me if you need anything."

Although it was procedure when broken-up couples patrolled together to keep an extra eye on them (which happened surprisingly often), James didn't think this would be a true concern tonight. Jason and Natalie were responsible kids, and they were still very good friends. James assured Remus he'd be extra alert, but he didn't say whom he would watch…

/-/

Brontes walked reluctantly to the Quidditch pitch with his brother, standing beside him as the brooms were unlocked. He'd agreed to go, giving no reasons out loud, but the only reason he had for going and not reporting them was Rose Zeller would be there, and if they all got in trouble…. A small voice in the back of his head said serving a detention might be pleasant if he could serve it near her.

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Ern Strougler sat down in his Gryffindor bed, feeling the weight of his final Halloween Feast settle in his stomach. He'd thought seventh year would be exciting, interesting, different…. All he'd gotten was more work, an even harder and more capricious Quidditch Captain than Ginny Weasley, and an anxiety ulcer from the way Professor Potter repeatedly told him he wasn't being careful enough to earn a passing grade from his NEWT in Transfiguration.

And Ern so desperately needed to pass.

"Guy," he whispered to the boy next to him, their class's prefect. He knew Guy had been upset not to get Head Boy, but he could always say Snape was biased. They already said it without double Slytherin Heads as proof. "Guy."

"What?" Guy grumbled, rolling onto his stomach and frowning at Ern in the moonlight.

"Can you tutor me in Transfiguration?"

Guy snorted.

"No," he said. "If you want Transfiguration help, ask one of the Blacks."

Ern knew he'd gone pale without seeing himself. He was terrified of Caroline Black, and Jason was…well…unnervingly quiet and patient. He supposed he could go to more office hours.

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Caroline shivered as she walked across to the far goal posts. Of course it would be pouring down rain when they decided to do this. It was cold, soggy as, and with a small enough moon that they could see, but not terribly well. She could just see the outlines of their three judges in the distance and she felt mildly ill.

They kicked off the springy, waterlogged pitch and rose together to the two outer goalposts.

"Ready?" Brontes said, clear through the rain and darkness, as if he were standing right beside them. "Steady. Go!"

Caroline darted forward on Anastasia Barbary's broom, driving forward in the rain, ignoring as it plastered her hair across her face, as it pelted her open eyes. She found herself jealous of her brother-in-law's goggles, and thought perhaps she really out to get a pair of those herself. She could scarcely see the goal posts, but she could see a blur out of the corner of her eye, mostly level with her that was almost certainly her cousin on his own broom.

She urged the broom forward, tightening her thighs about the broom and leaning down almost flat onto it, willing it to go faster, faster, faster. The Nimbus 2001 was a solid broom, but she was frustrated it was no Firebolt.

She touched the post and looked up to see Aeson touching the other, and she felt mildly nauseous.

"Well?" she called down to the judges, praying she'd pulled it off. She couldn't feel this miserable for nothing.

She could see the three of them talking in low voices, but couldn't make out any of what they were saying. She looked back to Aeson, who shrugged that he couldn't be sure, and he called out, "You guys? Who won?"

The familiar voice of Uncle James rang out over the cold air and he said, "Consider it a double loss. Come on down, you two. We're going to have a little chat in my office."

Caroline felt her stomach drop, and she wiped the hair off her face as she floated back down to the soggy pitch.

/-/

James started the fire in his grate after dismissing the three "judges" with a single detention each and five points off apiece. He understood how easily people like Caroline and Aeson could pull people into their messes, and he didn't want to punish cronies too greatly for something they were doing for a friend.

Now, though, now he was dealing with the heads of the beast, the two waring heads who couldn't seem to get along long enough to develop a plausible story, so when he asked them what they thought they were doing they just stared back at him sullenly, lips tight and posture painfully straight.

James sighed.

"I'll tell you what I think happened," he said, pressing his palms to the top of his desk. "Caro's incident in the forest has negated your usual methods of challenging each other, so now you two think you need other ways to fight. Correct?"

The pair grunted, frowning at each other.

/-/

Caroline bit the inside of her cheek with frustration as Uncle James described the whole event exactly as it happened, even down to why Damon hadn't been there. He was too clever for his own good. At least it wasn't her father, she decided. He'd be merciless. Probably.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen here," he said calmly. "Your friends got their one detention and five points. Twenty points off each of you." Caroline felt her nostrils twitch and she saw Aeson's hands twitch toward fists, but otherwise, neither of them reacted. "Also, you'll serve two weeks' worth of detentions, every other night, so expect to be seeing a lot of me."

Well, at least he wasn't handing them over to their respective House Heads, or worse, to Snape to just go whole hog.

Caroline felt her nostrils twitch, only this time she felt the sneeze coming on moments before it happened. Uncle James gave her a look not exactly pitying, but it seemed knowing, almost like an I-told-you-so look. She wondered how often he used it, because it was well practiced.

"I could lecture you further," he said, "but it's late and we'll have plenty of time for lectures when you serve your detentions. Good night."

/-/

James frowned as Caroline said, "Uncle James, who won?"

He knew she'd specifically referred to him by his non-professorial address to try to sweet-talk the answer out of him. Both of them were watching him with eager, desperate gazes. The judges hadn't been able to decide, he knew, so he said, "Too close to call," and sent them on their way, deflated.

The truth was, Caroline edged Aeson, but it wouldn't do any good to say so. Caroline didn't need the extra ego boost, and Aeson didn't need yet another letdown. Now he just needed to think of a way to tell her father, and design their punishment.

/-/

Padma traced her fingers along Catherine's body in the moonlight, pleased Harry was away on a two-day work trip to France. It allowed Padma total access to Catherine without having to manage Harry, total access to every part of her mind and body.

"I've been thinking, pet," Padma said soothingly, "we need to introduce something to help your husband."

"Hmm?" Catherine said, arching her back to welcome Padma's touch.

"He has his male weaknesses," Padma whispered before pressing a kiss to Padma's skin. "We must account for those. We need to introduce someone who isn't special, someone he can defile with his needs."

These words seemed strange to Catherine from the way she frowned slightly in the moonlight, trying to make sense of them.

But Catherine would agree. Catherine always agreed. Padma shifted her robe so her breasts were visible and Catherine sat up eagerly, without even needing to be beckoned. She began to kiss and suckle and worship Padma's breasts as Padma explained to her how Parvati would be coming to stay with them for a week, and this would be a very good thing, a very helpful thing for Harry. He would have to agree, because it would make Catherine very happy.

Catherine began humming her agreement with these words as Padma fed them to her pretty head, and Padma relaxed, focusing on the sensation of success. The first stage was more or less complete. It was time to trickle things into the next level, of complete domination of both Catherine and Harry, the level to turn Catherine into the siren she was, but not for soppy men who were lecherous and wanted to defile her.

Worshipful, pliable women, who would appreciate Catherine's purity and excellence, women who would worship Padma for the chance to worship Catherine. Women who were so much more easily governed by Bliss than men.

And Harry would be dealt with and managed. He was necessary. Padma knew and understood this. If Catherine were to lose him, everything else would fall apart. But she didn't need his presence in her bed, didn't need to be entered by him, didn't need for him to touch her if Padma paced things properly.

Given a year or two, Catherine would ache only for female touch, and gain satisfaction only through Bliss and the knowledge of being a vessel for worship of Padma.

If Padma could simply be patient and careful, it would all work out perfectly. And the first step was retraining Harry's desires.

 **A/N: So, James has his eye on Caroline, Caroline and Aeson continue to bicker, and Padma Patil's long-term goal is clarified.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you think James dealt with the whole thing? Anything you think he should have changed?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is Harry's natural ability to fight the Imperius Curse kind of what limits the effects of Bliss on him? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Okay, so I know that just above, Padma's thoughts say that Bliss is more effective on women than men, and while that isn't necessarily false, she's made this deduction from observing Harry and Catherine – not exactly the widest of samples. Part of it is biological differences, sure, but part of it is Harry's stubborn strength of will – the same thing that helps him fight the Imperius. Catherine has already proven she's not as strong at fighting that spell, and I will say she'll prove it again before the end of Part 3.**

 **Another major factor, though, is this whole mess fulfills fantasies of Catherine's – to some level, she wants this, or at least thinks she does. Harry only does any of it to please her, and while the drugs sometimes muddy the waters, his focus is entirely on Catherine's safety and happiness, so the wrong word, the wrong act, the wrong instruction, and it can pull him out of the stupor enough to take some kind of action. This is almost doubled because of the promise he made to Sirius, to keep her safe and happy. Not only is he operating on his own desperation to keep her safe and happy, but he's also operating on his determination to keep the promise to his father-in-law.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	124. For Better

**A/N: So, here's your regularly scheduled update! I hope you all have a lovely April Fool's Day, and don't get in too much trouble.**

 **-C**

Jason tried not to roll his eyes when he found out what his little sister had done. He could see even by the very next day not only was she stressed by her upcoming detentions with Uncle James, but she and Aeson were both…sneezing.

It was difficult not to laugh. Dennis laughed, when he heard what happened. Jason bit his lip, actually, not to laugh at a particularly loud sneeze of Aeson's.

"Serves them right," Natalie said with a small sniff, "breaking the rules."

That dampened Jason's spirits, and he wanted to say – but did not – she didn't mind so much about breaking rules when he was sneaking her to corners of the castle for candlelit dinners over a bottle of wine. She hadn't minded so much when they were snogging in places only his sisters knew how to find (and probably his father and uncles, but he wasn't willing to think about that).

"You have patrol with Laura tonight?" Cora said smoothly.

Jason felt his neck go hot as he nodded, glancing over at the Hufflepuff table.

It felt odd, almost wrong or scripted or something. After his breakup with Natalie, he'd spent more and more time with Laura Madley, whose ex-boyfriend, Kevin Whitby, was spending more and more time with Natalie. And they were all friends, weirdly, and they all got on with tiny exceptions like what Natalie just said about Caroline, and Jason worried someday, if he ever decided it was worth asking Laura out to see what would happen, they'd all get roped into a double-date, somehow, the way he and Natalie sometimes had done double dates with Cora and Jimmy.

And then, he thought, feeling slightly sick, they'd probably be stuck on triple dates, and if Dennis ever found another girlfriend, Jason didn't want to think what would happen.

Caroline and Aeson sneezed, loudly, almost in unison, and a whole gaggle of young Ravenclaw girls began giggling furiously.

/-/

Damon walked Caroline to Professor Potter's office, holding her hand and feeling heavy and melancholy.

"It's really not a big deal," she said dismissively, as she always said things when he thought something was very serious and worrying. "What are a few detentions, really? And Uncle James won't be too mean. I know the kinds of things he did as a student."

"Still," Damon said, thinking Professor Potter certainly wasn't a student anymore.

He wanted to point out to Caroline that she was a Prefect, a Captain. If this kind of thing kept happening, they would take her badge. Both her badges! She probably wouldn't care, of course, because she almost never got into trouble without Aeson, and Aeson would lose his badges too. She didn't mind not having something, long as Aeson didn't have it, either, and so what was the point in making a fuss?

She'd just tell him he was being silly.

Caroline paused outside of Professor Potter's office, wrapping her arms around Damon's neck and smiling her confident, lazy smile up at him. He couldn't help thinking of how the other day she'd let him kiss her breasts, repeatedly, and she'd had this sort of expression then. He shouldn't think of such things, because he wasn't sure, but he thought her father might be able to read minds.

Still, looking down at her now, he thought of the way she looked in the sheets of his bed, her pale skin cool and perfect, like marble.

"Don't do anything silly," she teased, before kissing him, and making him wish he could take her to his bed again, right then and there.

/-/

James sat in his desk, wishing he'd had something more creative for them to do than polish the needles and buttons for the first years, but there were an awful lot of them, so it was something. He watched Caroline and Aeson work, with their red noses, their watery eyes, their tired expressions.

He hated giving detentions in the first place, but a broom race? With his goddaughter and her cousin? When they were clearly already suffering from their choices?

It was like fate was laughing at him.

Then again, he knew Caroline, and he knew she never really learned her lessons unless something disastrous had happened. James didn't think he wanted to wait so long, so at least he would know where the pair were for a couple of weeks, and then it might be a little bit of time before they did something else stupid, and perhaps worse, than a race in the rain.

It was eating at him, though, that he hadn't told her she'd won. He'd told her father, who thought it was very funny James was having to deal with this particular brand of discipline. James asked for ideas on what to do, and Severus had made a snide remark about having them polish all the brooms in the shed.

James knew better, though. They were Quidditch Captains, and ones without any particular sense of ethics. Both would be more than willing to tamper with the brooms of competitors, so it would have to be the first year brooms, and what point was there in polishing those? They were practically just planks of wood, hardly useful at all.

"Professor?" Caroline said, frowning at her cousin.

James jerked out of his reverie and realized Aeson had managed to stick himself with several of the needles, and James sighed, healing Aeson's hand with a wave of his wand and wishing he'd had Caroline do all the needles and Aeson all the buttons. Neither was especially delicate, but Caroline was a bit less ham-fisted.

Letting his mind wander again, James wondered how Harry was doing. He didn't think Harry had any work today, so maybe he and Catherine were doing something nice. James had a horrible thought grandchildren could be announced any day, and he pushed his son and daughter-in-law from his mind.

He was too young for grandchildren.

/-/

Fabian poured the tea as Cara and Dorcas gossiped in the kitchen. Cara was talking about her note from Caroline about the girl's latest detention. Dorcas asked how Catherine was doing in her married life, several months in now. Fabian smiled as he thought of the first year with Dorcas. Some married couples had growing pains, difficulty figuring out how to live together, but he and Dorcas had just melted together like butter.

And they had so, so much sex.

"Cara," Fabian said, bringing tea to the table, smiling at her, "plans for Christmas?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her temple, smiling. "Kitty and Harry are probably coming, although Kitty has been toying with having a quiet Christmas their first year. I can't really blame her. I wish Sirius and I had the option."

Fabian nodded, knowing it would be nice to see Harry and Catherine, should they decide to go to the family Christmas party, but he wouldn't allow himself to be too disappointed if they weren't. Knowing them, they were probably busy shagging like bunnies on his days off, working on those grandchildren Sirius definitely wanted and James probably didn't – yet.

He sat down with the women and asked if they wanted any milk, because he'd forgotten to ask earlier, and Cara and Dorcas both shook their heads, mercifully.

"In truth, I know I shouldn't worry," Cara said with a wistful smile, "because they're young and in love, and so they're not likely to talk to their parents very much. But sometimes, I worry about Kitty and Harry. They…they seem to be in their own world. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. And Sirius has found ways to keep himself from thinking about it, and Lily doesn't seem worried. But I guess I don't have much to do except worry. The charity functions aren't really enough."

"Rhea never writes enough as well," Dorcas said, frowning. "I suppose they're very busy, these young kids. We were busy at their age, too. I'd rather my children have this kind of busy, though, all told. I mean, Rhea's dueling is still dangerous, but there are rules. There's safety measures. No one's died in…what, seven years?"

Fabian smiled tightly. He didn't care how long it was, it wasn't long enough. He didn't share Dorcas's confidence in Rhea's safety, mostly because he couldn't be there to guarantee it. He'd follow her all over the world, if he could, and make sure nothing ever hurt her. That was his right as a father, he thought. Especially after everything he went to to make sure his children grew up in safety and peace.

/-/

Padma petted Harry's chin and said, "This is for you, my dear. Because you can't be inside of myself, or Catherine, we've brought someone you can be inside."

Harry's eyes looked over Parvati with mild confusion. Padma placed the Bliss dose on his tongue and made a mental note to up it. His confusion and resistance melted away and Parvati began to strip, already dosed.

Not that it mattered. It had been a very, very long time since Parvati last questioned her sister's wishes.

/-/

Luna sat at a little table, across from Ron Weasley, whom she'd been dating for about three months, starting sometime just after Catherine got married and growing more and more serious all the time. She liked Ron.

He was sweet. He was a good listener, with an open mind. He had interesting stories from work, and liked her input on things he could suggest to his brothers to improve his standing in the joke company. He also supported her dreams and studies, although she knew he wasn't a full believer in the animals she was most interested in.

That was fine. Luna didn't expect everyone to be a full believer.

He took her hand across the table and smiled. She knew he was lonely these days, what with Neville still in Gibraltar and Harry seeming to spend every available free moment with Catherine. Even Draco was busier and busier with work all the time, and what with Rhea on another continent nine weeks out of ten, Ron and Luna both found themselves pretty much just enjoying each other's company most of the time.

And she really didn't have any complaints, there.

/-/

By the end of their last day with Uncle James, Caroline was tired, frustrated, and finally starting to get the better of her head cold. She and Aeson hadn't exactly made up, but they'd come as close as they ever came. She expressed to her father she'd learned her lesson, whatever the lesson was supposed to be.

Don't get caught by Uncle James next time? Have Damon watching the Map to keep them informed of any possible threats?

She'd just have to get more creative, she decided as she thanked Uncle James for the discipline, which seemed to catch him rather off-guard. She tried not to laugh as she walked out to where the Prewetts were talking with Aeson in low voices in the corridor.

"Well, that's done, then," she said, frowning. "Are your family coming on Christmas, Aeson?"

"Mother hasn't said," he said with a shrug. "It'll depend on my father, I think. You know how much he prefers your family's events to the other social events we have to do."

She nodded, knowing he really just preferred any excuse to spend time with her mother over some of his other acquaintances. She thought he found her parents refreshing after all the stuffed shirts.

"Kitty isn't sure if she's bring Harry with her, or if they're going to stay at their place," Caroline said. Damon asked if she'd seen their place yet and she shook her head.

She supposed she would someday, but she wasn't curious enough to ask. She was more concerned with her own experience, her own needs and desires. She said goodnight to Aeson and slipped her hand into Damon's, leading him and his sister back toward Gryffindor Tower. She thought, if she was sly enough about it, she could convince Damon to let her sleep in his bed that night. Nothing silly, just sleeping.

Caroline found she slept better with the smell of Damon's soap beside her, with the warmth of his body next to her. She would never say those words out loud, but she felt them very keenly.

She let him kiss her fingers and she fought a smile.

/-/

Lily read over the letter from Harry, trying not to frown in worry. She tried to let Harry live his life, but Cara's concerns they hadn't heard much from the married couple, the feeling in Lily's gut, and the knowledge Catherine and Harry tended to…push things to the limit were all reasons for her to be slightly concerned, at the very least.

She rubbed her temple as set the letter aside, telling herself their minds weren't made up and they still might come for Christmas. Surely Catherine knew it would break her father's heart if she didn't at least come by for the party. And Lily knew the last thing Catherine ever wanted to do was break her father's heart.

Lily wrote a quick letter to James about arrangements for Christmas, and did he want their contribution to brunch to be bacon or beans this year? James would almost certainly say bacon, but she knew it was good to ask him, just in case he changed his mind.

Although she had known she would miss his presence in Godric's Hollow when he went off to be a teacher, Lily hadn't realized just how much she would miss his practiced ability to make quick decisions, to take care of things so she didn't have to take care of them herself. He was always looking for ways to make her life easier, to make things simple and painless because he knew just how much work she had to do outside of the house.

"Drat," she hissed, hearing the kettle go, having forgotten completely she'd put it on in the first place.

James never forgot a thing like that. He never let the household things get the better of him. A long time ago, she thought with amusement, she had assumed she'd be a housewife, at least part-time. Now she couldn't imagine she'd ever have made a good one. She was lucky, she realized wholeheartedly, she had a husband who had eagerly taken up the mantle. After everything they'd gone through, she was useless for these little considerations. She was used to thinking in the big scale, not small details. James, though, had many, many years of practice at being attentive to all her needs, from a time far before they were married. She supposed she'd assumed it would go on until they died, but now she was the one in the house, and dealing with things, and it seemed almost impossible to fill his shoes.

She told him, in the letter, everything was fine.

/-/

Cara sat down at her desk, thinking of writing a letter to Sirius, but not sure what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him she missed him, but she didn't want him to know she was lonely, because she knew he'd take more time than he should to come and visit her, and if he did he'd have a hard time leaving when he ought to.

"You look pensive, my dear," the voice of Phineas Nigellus said. "Planning for Christmas?"

"I feel I'm always planning for Christmas," she said, rubbing her temples and giving the portrait a small smile.

He'd been a mainstay in her life since her early days of being the head of Grimmauld Place (as Sirius had never wanted to be), since redecorating the house. He'd grown almost soft and affectionate toward her, although he was still very bitter toward Sirius much of the time. He tried to control himself, for her sake, and he doted on the children, but when they had gone off to school, he was often Cara's closest companion.

"I watched young Caroline do her Transfiguration lesson yesterday," Phineas said. "A very talented girl, but her finesse is lacking."

"We could have done more with her," Cara said, smiling. "To try to make her a bit more graceful, you know? I should have tried harder to help her with delicate tasks. But…."

She shrugged. She knew she never had the strength to confront or corral her youngest daughter, who had all the rebellious strength of her father and none of Catherine's admiration for the ways of their world. Caroline just wanted what she wanted.

The portrait of Phineas droned on as Cara thought of Sirius, of how he would have liked to live his life, if he'd been given the freedom to do it. She had never been in his plans, but when she came into his life, he still would have had plans. They would have run away, gone far away. After everything he'd done for her, she had no doubt if Albus had not gotten involved, she and Sirius would have left the country, avoided the war, their families, lived a carefree life, starting over.

She closed her eyes, recalling his halting, nervous, desperate hands on her when they were still young, and everything was new, and she was still Cate and no one else.

Without pausing to think, without listening to Phineas, she began writing a letter, not caring how long Sirius took away from the school, not caring at all what work he might not get done. She told him she missed him, that she was lonely, everything she could think of. She ached to feel his eager, hungry touch, to taste his lips, to feel him inside of her as she'd done all those years ago.

Because after all that had changed, those moments with Sirius were just the same as the first times.

Her hands trembled as she signed off, and she sent the letter along with their owl, praying he came soon.

 **A/N: So, James is too young for grandchildren, Cara and Lily might be sort of worried but are they really?, and Ron and Luna have begun a relationship! (does happy dance)**

 **Review Prompt: I'm sure we all had a primary ship as we read (mine was Remus/Tonks), but what was your secondary ship? It's definitely time to confess that I was a big fan of Ron/Luna. SO CUTE.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: When things come to a head, is [Harry] going to blame Kitty for getting them in this mess, or will something happen to him that will make her realize her mistake? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Okay, MINOR SPOILERS BELOW.**

 **So, Harry is the one who will enact the end of the disaster, not Catherine. I won't say more than that, because I don't want to give away TOO many spoilers, esp. as this is the main drama.**

 **But Harry could never blame her. Even if he should, he's always going to be more worried about her than any blame could withstand.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	125. Mistletoe

**A/N: Here's a weekly bonus! Enjoy!**

 **-C**

Padma raised an eyebrow as she watched Catherine dress for her family's Christmas party. As fun as it would be to tease and taunt and even seduce Catherine at her family manor, Padma knew it was too dangerous. Professor Black was not someone to be trifled with, and he had powerful and important friends. She supposed it would have been easier to have picked someone who was easier to isolate, but then she wouldn't have Catherine Black.

She stretched out her legs, watching Catherine do her zip. Padma had thought of giving Catherine some Bliss before she left, teasing her for when she came back, but it seemed a little bit too cruel, and she wanted to save it for when the married couple returned.

"Don't have too much fun, darling," Padma said, kissing Catherine as the pretty little pureblood leaned down for a kiss. "I expect you to be ready to go when you come back."

"I'm always ready for you," Catherine said breathlessly, worshipfully, and Padma smirked, patting the girl's cheek. It had almost been too easy.

Harry was sleeping in the spare bedroom, now, and without any real trouble. Parvati got a sofa, Harry had the spare bed, and Padma had the master bed, with Catherine either at her feet or wrapped around her, as occasion dictated. There was another guest bedroom Parvati could have used, but Padma had plans for that room, and as far as Padma was concerned, once she had one more step in Harry's development, they could start putting that bedroom to use.

Once she heard the door close behind Harry and Catherine, Padma wrapped her dressing gown around her naked body and lazily going to make herself a cup of tea. Parvati was shuddering, naked, on the sofa. She rolled onto her stomach as Padma put the kettle on, but Padma didn't acknowledge her twin until she sat down with a freshly poured cup of tea.

"How's our boy?" Padma asked, stirring the tea smoothly, seeing the slight haze of Bliss in Parvati's eyes.

"Insatiable," Parvati groaned. "He wants his wife."

Padma hummed. She supposed it was only natural for him to only be barely satisfied with the replacement. Perhaps another slight up in his dose would hold him for the moment. It would slow Padma's plans, but that would have to be accepted. She couldn't afford to be haphazard, not when she was so close to achieving her dream for Catherine.

"I'm still aching," Parvati sighed. "This…Bliss, this drug—"

"It's not a drug, you stupid cow," Padma said quickly. "The next time I hear you say that, you'll be punished. You know what you're for. It's not for making that…that…assumption. I have worked too hard for you to bring it all crashing down. Now, if you're still aching, there's toys in the master. Help yourself."

Parvati sighed her apologies and appreciation before hurrying upstairs and Padma sighed, relaxing into her cup of tea and trying to figure out how this conversation would decide her next move.

/-/

Ron was grinning wildly as they approached Harry and Catherine. Luna wasn't on his arm the way Catherine was with Harry. She just didn't feel they were those sort of people, and she felt silly where Catherine always looked graceful, like she was taking a posture she was born for.

"Great news, mate," Ron said brightly after the initial greetings. "Luna's agreed to marry me."

"Oh!" Catherine said, eyes wide a small smile on her lips. "Well, that's wonderful."

"When's the wedding?" Harry asked, clapping Ron's shoulder as Catherine kissed Luna's cheek.

"We're going to elope," Luna said, smiling, "when the time feels right."

Despite their upbringing, neither of the Potters found this odd, and Luna appreciate them for this. The truth was, Luna felt a massive wedding of some sort would only put strain and stress on her father – strain and stress that were unnecessary and avoidable. She and Ron would know when it was the right time to get married, and that would be when they did it. Everything would be so much simpler. Lovely as Catherine's wedding had been, it all looked rather a lot of work.

"How's things in the shop, then?" Harry asked Ron, and the usual conversations about work began. The joke shop, the little apothecary shop Catherine ran for brewing and brewers, Luna's studies, Harry's Quidditch. Even though they were in such different places in their lives, Luna decided, standing here in Selwyn Manor, not too much had truly changed.

"You never have anyone over," Ron said, rather tactlessly. Luna had explained to him that as essential newlyweds, Harry and Catherine very likely wanted to keep their house as a haven away from others, but Ron couldn't wrap his mind around this. "When are you planning on having company again?"

Harry tensed and looked to his wife, who did not have any awkwardness as she shrugged and said, "I would probably say when the house doesn't smell like sex, I might consider it. Until then, I rather think I'm doing you a favor, Ron, but not inviting you over."

Ron's ears turned terribly red, and Luna supposed she wouldn't say later how she had – after all – warned him. It didn't seem a pleasant or nice thing to say. Catherine caught sight of her father coming in from the grounds and excused herself to talk to him, and the three left standing there quickly turned the topic to Quidditch once more.

/-/

Jason watched the way Laura's face lit up as she looked around the room, stunned. She and Kevin were both invited for Christmas dinner, and although he found them close friends these days, he wasn't ready to have them stay the whole break like Jimmy and Cora and Dennis.

"You like it, I take it?" he said, gesturing around the ballroom. Laura nodded, tucking a bit of pale hair behind her ear.

"I feel terribly underdressed," she said nervously.

"Don't," he said, leading her over toward the snacks, which Cora and Jimmy had already introduced Kevin to. "In truth, it's just a house. It just happens to be a very old, very big one. But our parents have enough guests to invite that it never feels dull over the holidays."

"Does your mother live here alone during the year?" Laura asked, glancing over to where his mother was conversing with Aunt Narcissa and Professor Snape.

"No, we have a house in London," he said, frowning slightly at how that sounded. He wondered if it was little things like that, like his family's age and wealth, that had ripped him and Natalie apart. "It's much more livable. We're only here over holidays."

She hummed, looking around at all the different families and people represented. Catherine was chatting gracefully with their father, Uncle Rabastan, and Uncle Lucius, although Uncle Lucius never seemed pleased when she held her own in a conversation.

"You sister always looks like a film star," Laura sighed. "I guess you've heard it before, but she looks like your mother, actually. Don't you think?"

"Yes," he said softly, glancing at the way his father kissed her hair. "Yes, I've noticed."

"I'm sorry," Laura said with a laugh. "Gosh, it's hot in here, isn't it? I suppose it's not, but I feel…"

She shrugged, and Jason offered to walk her out to the back gardens for a moment for some air. She hesitated, but she followed him, walking out to the back steps, down them toward the water features, off into the roses. He found a bench, warmed and dried it, and motioned for her to sit, which she did.

"You know we're not supposed to use magic out of school," she said, smiling nervously as she glanced about the garden.

Jason said nothing. He didn't want to say out loud it didn't matter what he was or wasn't supposed to do – he was a Black and therefore could get away with basically whatever he wanted. There was no modest way to explain those rules didn't really apply to his family, so he said nothing.

"I know nothing in life is every really like a fairytale," Laura said, frowning slightly at her knees, "but this place feels a bit like a palace, and your mother really looks like a queen, and your father is a bit like a king, and your sisters certainly act like princesses."

Forcing his lips to turn to a tight smile, he asked, "What does that make me, then?"

She shrugged and said, "Prince charming, I suppose."

Jason couldn't have explained it, but those words struck him as painful somehow, like he was being seen as something he wasn't. Then very softly she said, "All this tranquility was bought at a terribly high price, though, wasn't it? The things we learned in your father's course about what he had to do…. I guess nothing good comes free, does it?"

Jason closed his eyes, thinking of all the suffering his sisters had gone through.

"No," he whispered. "No, it doesn't."

/-/

Damon sat with Caroline in a corner, wishing he could find a way to get her alone. He was feeling bold tonight, ready to kiss her, ready to defy her father to catch them and take advantage of how beautiful she looked, how perfect she was.

"My dad's watching," she said, smirking. "I'm thinking of conjuring some mistletoe. What d'you think?"

He did like the idea of that very much, thinking of what it would be like to have an excuse to kiss her right in front of everyone, to be that bold for just a moment.

"Your father might kill me," he said, watching her lips.

"Let him try," Caroline teased. "I can do quite a Shield Charm these days."

It made Damon uneasy to hear her say things like that. Ever since learning about her magical core's strength and depth, she'd become even more sure of herself, and she'd been cocky to begin with. Damon didn't know whether she would truly test her father on something like that or not, but he wouldn't say it was impossible.

Before he could decide whether the mistletoe was a good idea, Caroline closed her eyes and spread her hands out, palms toward the ceiling. Damon was startled to see a huge patch of mistletoe gathered on the ceiling. Professor Black's eyes caught sight of it quickly and they darkened at his daughter, but he hesitated, saying nothing as Caroline pulled Damon into a series of kisses.

Damon supposed where Professor Black had been afraid of Catherine dating, he seemed more afraid now of telling Caroline what to do. Maybe it was because of her magical core, maybe because of all the things Catherine had done after being sheltered, maybe because he – hopefully – liked Damon and didn't want to risk Caroline rebelling and going for someone Professor Black didn't like.

Whatever the reason, Damon relaxed into the kisses a bit. He had to keep himself from getting carried away, but he could take the time to appreciate the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin, the smell of her perfume.

He was a tiny bit afraid of Caroline now, more so than he'd already been, because she didn't even need a wand for basic things anymore, and was getting stronger all the time. He didn't think she'd ever turn these skills on him, but sometimes he wasn't really sure of anything, especially to do with Caroline. There were days when he looked into her eyes and thought he was looking at a stranger. A beautiful, terrible, wonderful stranger he kept falling more and more in love with, but he wondered some days what this said about him. He seemed to need her more the more power she developed, and he knew should he ever give her a reason, she wouldn't think twice to destroy him or magically control him.

And while that was frightening, Damon also found it just a bit exciting.

/-/

Lily watched her son carefully. He looked as though he hadn't been sleeping especially well, and she wondered whether she shouldn't check in on the married couple soon. Cara had told her that they were fine, and to let it be, but Lily had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach something was wrong.

/-/

Cora watched from the windows as Jason and Laura talked in the gardens. They'd gone outside some time ago, and although Jason had draped his outer jacket on her shoulders, the pair were still shivering slightly.

"She's a lovely girl," the soft voice of Madam Black said over Cora's shoulder. Cora jumped slightly, nodding her acknowledgment.

"A good sort," Cora said, shrugging. "Jason really likes her and Kevin. I think they've been…good for him since he and Natalie split."

"I liked Natalie very much," Madam Black said thoughtfully, "but she was never…. Well, the life Jason has been born into, Cora, is not for everyone. It takes a very certain kind of person to live in this world and not crumble. I wasn't that sort of person at first, but I had to be, so I was aided to learn what I needed to learn. It doesn't work that way anymore. There's no need for people to be what they are not by nature. Natalie will find her place in the world, I suppose. And Jason will find someone who can live in this one. Maybe someday it won't matter, but we've not got as far as all that yet, have we?"

"I guess not," Cora said, frowning. "I don't know, I think it wouldn't be hard, living in a massive house and having as much gold as you needed."

She hadn't meant to say that bit out loud, but Madam Black didn't seem offended. Her brown eyes were soft and sorrowful as she said, "If that were all there was to it, my dear, it wouldn't be so difficult, no. But as you may have learned in your courses, nothing in life is every so simple. The greater the gift, the greater the sacrifice."

Cora felt terribly uncomfortable, and she was momentarily glad Jimmy was a simple sort of person with a simple kind of life.

/-/

Brontes watched Caroline gossip with several of her friends, waiting for Caroline to drag Damon off and Ourania to get in a fight with his little brother before he crossed to Miss Rose Zeller, standing alone by the punch, looking mildly uncomfortable with being abandoned.

"Excuse me, Miss Zeller," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I was about to pour some punch. Would you care for some?"

"Oh," she said, looking even more nervous. Her face flushed slightly. "Erm, thank you, yes."

He poured the punch feeling a small rush of adrenaline as their fingers brushed when he passed her the glass. He wanted an excuse to do it again, but he could think of none.

"I never feel quite comfortable here," she said nervously, looking around the hall. "I suppose you have no problems with it."

"With what?" he asked, holding the punch he'd poured for himself without drinking it. She wasn't really drinking hers, either.

"The, erm, size. Grandeur, you know. The grandeur of the place." She sighed. "Seems like everyone here is used to this except for me."

"Actually," he said, gesturing to walk with her, which she did without comment, "I find my family are the most comfortable here, even more than the Blacks themselves. They live in London during the year, and only come here for holidays. My family actually lives in our manor."

"Oh," she said, flushing even brighter. It was beautiful, he thought, how bright her pale skin could go. He wanted to touch it and feel how warm it was, but he knew it was terribly inappropriate to even begin to do so.

"This may be the wrong thing to say," he said, pausing as he saw Ourania Prewett and his brother approaching, "and almost certainly the wrong time to say it, but I feel I cannot take my leave from you tonight without expressing how it is a privilege to have had a moment to talk with the most beautiful woman here tonight." Before she could process his words, much less respond to them, he took her free hand, kissed the back of it, and walked away, feeling his heart pounding in his throat and ears. It took all his strength not to go back again and lead her under some patch of mistletoe.

It wouldn't do, though. He was determined to do this properly, or it wasn't worth doing at all.

/-/

Ron walked Luna to her father's doorstep and kissed her cheek. He wanted to go in with her, but he promised to give her an early, quiet night alone with her father. The pending marriage had come as a bit of a shock to Xenophilius, and although the man had approved of Ron, it was clear he was not fully alright with letting go of his little girl. Ron never asked, but he had a feeling the loss of his wife had gone a long way toward the dependence on Luna.

He said goodnight, and he watched her go in, watched the door close behind her, before he walked the somewhat-long stroll to the Burrow, where his mother was certainly not expecting him. It hardly mattered, Ron supposed. She would be happy to see him, and after the exhaustion he was feeling after the Selwyn Manor Christmas Party, he didn't feel like going back to his flat just yet. Hogsmeade was ages away, even by Apparition, it felt. His mother would put him up for the night, maybe give him a mince pie and some eggnog.

A strange sense of nostalgia washed over him as he came through the gate, walked across, knocked on the door to the Burrow, feeling slightly smaller. His mother could be heard calling out for his father to get the door, and Ron felt like he was properly home.

 **A/N: So, Ron and Luna are…eventually getting married, Brontes and Jason are flexing their flirtation muscles, and Caroline is relishing her newfound power levels.**

 **Review Prompt: If you were Sirius or Cara, which child would scare you more, Catherine or Caroline? And why? Honestly, Caroline as my child would terrify me.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will any of the parents find out about this [the Padma situation]? (Michand)**

 **A: Well, yes, they'll all find out about it eventually. MILD SPOILER! I know a lot of you are hoping for some kind of intervention, but they're going to figure it out in damage-control mode, not intervention mode.**

 **ALSO! You all want Padma gone, right? You want to hurry through to the big showdown? Ten chapters. That's when shit gets real. Ten chapters from now. Want to get there faster? You know what to do.** **Review, review, review!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	126. Morphoses

**A/N: Here's Bonus 2 for the week!**

 **-C**

Caroline knocked on the door to Uncle Remus's office, waiting for him to answer the door.

She'd been jealous, in truth, of her elder sister's extra lessons with Snape. Not that Caroline had any interest in doing extra Potions, but the fact Catherine had a special skill Caroline didn't always rankled.

Uncle Remus opened the door and ushered her in.

Her father had finally given permission for her to have extra training in wandless dueling – a special level of dueling to potentially guarantee her a career in what she loved to do most. It wasn't safe for her to practice during Dueling Club, for fear of misfiring magic injuring other students.

"Have a seat," Uncle Remus said. "Tea and chocolate, you know the drill."

Caroline nodded.

Apparently, it was good for the strength of her magical core to eat chocolate and drink tea before putting it under the strain of intensive and intentional wandless magic. Caroline hadn't actually researched this, but she wasn't going to complain. She was as pleased for a good cup of tea as anyone.

She quickly consumed her chocolate and tea, ignoring the slight scalding of her mouth. She wanted to get to work as quickly as possible.

"Now," he said when she set down her teacup, "your stunt with the mistletoe was amusing, but not the best use of your core."

"Oh, it wasn't even a tickle," she said, grinning. "And I've got to keep it exercised, you said. It's not like I can really duel over the holidays. It was the best I could do, under the circumstances."

She'd prepared her argument, knowing he wasn't going to be pleased with her behavior. She could tell from the amused glint of his eyes he wasn't truly upset with her, and her appeal was a quality one.

"Alright," he said, tapping the table. "Your shields are solid. We'll do a short workout on those later. What I'm more concerned with is the attacking ability. It's still scattered, unfocused. You'll not make this work unless you can have as much precision without a wand as you do with it."

"It's exhausting," Caroline admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't maintain it."

Uncle Remus nodded, pulling out a book and another chocolate bar.

"Your father and I have had a long, long talk. You're going to start having two sets of extra lessons." Caroline perked up, wondering what doing this twice as often would do to benefit her development. "One with me," he said, frowning, "and one with James."

Caroline blinked.

"What does Uncle James know about wandless magic?" she asked.

"Surprisingly, more than you'd think," he said, wincing again. "He's, erm, going to teach you to become an Animagus. The training and discipline for the magical core should be sufficient for improving your stamina for our sessions."

Uncle Remus explained they'd fast-tracked Ministry approval, despite Professor McGonagall's misgivings, and Uncle James was already putting together a course of study to help her achieve what very few adult wizards had ever achieved. Caroline was giddy with excitement.

This was something else Aeson could never, ever have. His Transfiguration skills weren't up to scratch.

"When do I start?" she asked eagerly.

"Tomorrow evening," Uncle Remus said. "But you must promise me, Caroline, you'll take this seriously and work very hard, following all of the instructions given to you. This isn't a game. It's very difficult, very dangerous magic. If we didn't feel you were more of a danger to yourself without it than with it, I would never have endorsed the plan, but as it is, it's necessary."

Caroline nodded, taking his words very seriously. Unlike her sister, Caroline understood the best way to get what she wanted out of life was to follow instructions when they were given to her, perhaps occasionally bending them, but avoiding actually breaking rules as much as possible. There were things worth bending and breaking, and there were things where results would be better by doing as she was told.

This was certainly the latter.

"So, what are we doing today?" she asked, rubbing her hands on her thighs, vaguely aware she was sweating with excitement.

"I'm actually going to start you on your Transfiguration," Uncle Remus said calmly. "I do have some experience with helping someone achieve the transformation, and I can begin your training on the meditation cycles."

"Experience with Animagus transformations?" she asked, leaning in. "Why's that?"

Uncle Remus narrowed his eyes, considering whether he could or should tell her whatever it was he knew, and why he knew it. Caroline knew there had to be a fascinating story behind all of this.

"Ask your father," was all he said, however, and Caroline couldn't decide whether to be disappointed or even more excited.

/-/

Lily went through her wardrobe, trying to think of what she would wear in a week's time when her husband came back for Valentine's Day. He'd promised to come see her for dinner, just as Sirius had promised to spend the night in London with Cara. James hadn't promised the whole night, but Lily knew if she played her hand right, he'd forget all about whatever plans he had after dinner.

The question began with finding the right outfit. She supposed she could wear her crimson dress, but she really never felt it suited her coloring. There was the green dress, but James didn't like that it was a Slytherin color.

She smirked, pulling out a black dress she hadn't worn in a very long time. The last time she'd put it on, James's jaw had dropped and he had been incapable of human speech for about an hour, which had suited Lily just fine.

Then she pulled out a bra and knickers matching well enough, black lace. She'd not worn this particular set, but she'd been waiting for just the right situation to tease him with them. Lily licked her lips and set them aside, going down to her study to write a note to Harry, who said he and Catherine would be busy the weekend of Valentine's Day and wouldn't be coming for brunch. She had thought they'd be busy on the day proper, but they must have some sort of weekend trip planned, because they almost never skipped out on brunch.

Once again, a nervous feeling filled her gut, but she pushed it aside. It was only natural for a young married couple to do special things on Valentine's weekend. She couldn't imagine why she kept feeling uneasy about it, but she told herself it was just adjusting. Things would normalize and the feeling would pass.

/-/

"Good," James said, frowning at his goddaughter as she took the crouching pose he'd modeled. "You've been taking the potions I gave you?" Caroline nodded, smoothly and without moving her body more than necessary.

Well, at least she was taking this seriously.

Apparently, Sirius hadn't used his Animagus form around the children since they were quite small, and with the advent of Caroline's new training, he'd had to fess up to them about his Animagus form, which all three children had delighted in knowing.

"I want you to envision a landscape," he said. "The first one that comes to your mind." Her breathing remained steady. "In a word, what do you see?"

"Forest."

Well, not surprising, given her years at Hogwarts. It was what James had seen, as well.

"You are moving through the forest. Follow the paths on instinct, not taking time to consider them. Only stop if you feel it is necessary."

He waited, watching Caroline as she breathed steadily, holding the crouching position. They'd tried her on her stomach last week, and standing the week before. She'd yet to even get a glimpse of her form, although she had the instinctive pushes guiding her through the visualizations, so the form was there to find.

After several moments, she groaned with frustration and rolled back to sitting, letting her legs stretch out in front of her as she opened her eyes.

"I lost it again," she said, her face screwed up in disappointment.

"That's alright," James said supportively. "It's natural. Have some tea; we'll try again."

/-/

Fabian went into the main shop in their town, something terribly Muggle, but it was the only place he knew he could find what he wanted without facing the judgment of familiar faces. Plus, he didn't want anyone spoiling the surprise for Dorcas.

"Can I help you, sir?" one of the girls who worked there asked when he went up the aisle where he'd scoped out the sorts of things he'd needed last week.

"Yes," he said, giving her his most charming smile. "At least, I hope so. I'm looking to surprise my wife on Valentine's Day, and maybe you can give me some idea of what women like. I do my best but," he shrugged, "I'm only a man."

She laughed appreciatively before following him over to the various rubbers, lubes, et cetera. He asked a few questions, and she asked a few questions about his wife, and together they picked out a few things to do the trick. He thanked her profusely and she waved him off, getting back to stocking shelves as he went to check out.

/-/

Padma smoothed back Catherine's hair as she adjusted the strap-on, making sure it was secure. Catherine had been told she would earn her second half-dose when Parvati came, and Catherine had assumed that it would be by mouth or fingers, but this was the final stage before plans could truly be put into motion. Catherine had offered no resistance once the idea had been planted, and Harry was watching in the corner, already on his upped half-dose. His half doses were closer to Catherine's full doses, now, but it had to be done. Padma sat beside him, caressing his bare shoulder as he watched Parvati prepare the strap-on with her mouth.

"Doesn't she look powerful?" Padma whispered, as his eyes were glued to Catherine. Padma only wished she didn't have to train him so she could appreciate the view for herself.

"Yes," he choked out, obviously aching to touch, either himself or his wife. Probably both.

As they watched, Padma began feeding him mantras about Catherine's power and importance, how Parvati belonged to her, and this was the ultimate sign of Parvati's belonging. He was told he could earn his second half-dose if he did everything asked of him today, and he nodded, not touching himself.

When Parvati came, Catherine was given the full dose, and she shivered with pleasure as Padma squeezed her breast and gave her instruction. The strap-on was offered to Harry to clean. At first he blinked, puzzled, but Padma reminded him an active tongue was a happy tongue, and he began to clean it with his mouth. With proper verbal guidance and the permission to touch himself, Harry began to do the task with eagerness, even hints of desire.

About a week, Padma decided. A week of daily reenactments of this and Harry would be ready for the ultimate submission to Padma's wishes, and to his wife. Catherine seemed ready already, obviously enjoying wielding the strap-on, knowing she would get to taste Padma when Harry earned the second-half of his dose.

But Harry was still in training, and so Padma had to take it one step at a time.

When Harry was sent back to his bedroom to work out his frustrations and desires on an eager Parvati, Padma motioned for Catherine to come to her, which Catherine did, on hands and knees, practically pressing her face between Padma's legs.

"You did very well today, pet," Padma cooed, and Catherine sighed with satisfaction at the praise. "I think you've earned a little treat."

"May I taste you?" Catherine said, her voice a low moan, almost begging.

Padma smiled, doing her best not to laugh.

"You'll get better than that," Padma said, gesturing for Catherine to lay down on the floor, which she did in an instant. Padma sat on the girl's face, pleased when Catherine began lapping eagerly without further orders. She lowered her own head to taste Catherine, relishing the scent and flavor, and feeling the tightening of Catherine's muscles from the pleasure beneath her. This made all the work and waiting worthwhile.

/-/

Ginny kissed Blaise, waiting for him to tell her whatever it was that had been on his mind all night long. He was tracing his fingers through her hair, knowing she would have work in the morning and he had deadlines in the afternoon.

"Valentine's Day," he said without preamble or explanation. Ginny lifted her head slightly for a better look at him. She waited for him to say more, but he was silent, still petting her hair.

"What about it?" she finally prompted, hoping she didn't sound annoyed. His lips twitched, so even if she did sound annoyed, it was probably what he was going for. Sometimes Blaise could be insufferable.

"We have plans," he said. "I've made reservations. Wear your lilac dress robes."

"I hate those," she said, pouting.

"But they look divine on you," he said, kissing her hand. "And I love them."

She knew it wasn't a matter of what he thought, but he'd probably got them reservations somewhere disgustingly expensive, and they were the most high-end robes she owned. She'd bought them on a whim with her first bonus check, knowing he'd like the soft, luxury silk and the dangerously low back – or rather, no back. Still, he'd always been much happier with them than she was, never quite fancying the color and finding the silk was much clingier than she had anticipated when she tried it on.

One of those things that was just going to be better on the rack or in theory than in principle.

Still, he'd obviously planned everything out, and she had to bow to the effort. He'd not only not forgotten, but he had it all worked out. She could do worse. The lilac dress robes for one dinner were a small price to pay, and if she was lucky, she wouldn't be wearing them all night, anyway.

"There's one thing to consider, then," she said, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at his almond-shaped eyes. He hummed. "What should I do with my hair?"

Blaise smirked, tracing his fingers through the locks in question, feeling them, even lifting them to his nose and smelling them. For whatever reason, he really loved her hair.

"Definitely down," he said before kissing her again.

/-/

Caroline tried to focus her thoughts on the forest, ignoring the cadence of Uncle James's voice. She could sense something, something not quite her. She followed the turns of the path, going this way and that, not paying attention to where, just letting the sensation and instinct carry her. She could smell moss, but she didn't dwell on it, just focusing her thoughts on the direction of the instinct, letting it lead her closer to the sunlight in the distance.

But once she noticed the sunlight she began to think of it with her human thoughts and she lost the instinct, swearing loudly as she rolled onto her back, fighting tears by not opening her eyes, and pounding her fists into the stone floor with frustration as Uncle James offered more tea.

/-/

Lily read the letter from James, lamenting Caroline had to be put under such inordinate stress. Yes, Lily had made the recommendation for the wandless magic training, knowing Caroline would make the connections on her own, regardless, and start trying to train herself – to potentially disastrous effect. But Lily hadn't anticipated Remus would use this to further Caroline's desired career as a duelist, or how the Marauders would decide the best way to train her in controlling her wandless magic was in having James train her to be an Animagus.

Minerva had even written Lily, begging her to force her husband to see sense. Lily had simply wryly replied she had learned many years ago there was no getting James to see sense. He simply bent the rest of the world to his will so his plans and ideas suddenly seemed perfectly sensible. And anyway, Cara and Sirius were onboard, and Caroline had the ability.

She sighed, setting the letter aside and wishing Caroline didn't push herself too hard in some kind of competitive struggle to be the greatest. She took after her father, and he tended to push beyond his own limits.

/-/

James watched Caroline leave his office with a hard, steely glint in her eyes and he felt slightly deflated. He waited several minutes before going to Sirius's quarters, where Severus, Remus, and Sirius were already sharing a bottle of firewhiskey.

"You're late," Sirius said, pouring him a glass.

"Caro didn't want to quit," James said, frowning as he sat down. "Sometimes I worry about her."

"I try not to," Sirius said, shrugging. "Besides, frustrated as she is, it'll be a couple of years before she actually gets the form."

Remus's eyebrows shot up and he said, "I wouldn't be so sure."

Sirius frowned and asked why, and Remus said, "Just because it took us three years doesn't mean it will take Caro that long. You didn't have proper training, Sirius, just each other. And you started much younger. Caro's got more raw talent, and has already given a lot of attention to her magical core and wandless magic. She's about a third of the way there already."

"Exactly," Sirius said stubbornly. "She graduates in two years. It took us three. She'll take two. I don't understand why you're being so stroppy, Moony."

James just sipped at his drink, silently agreeing with Remus. If Caroline wasn't an Animagus by next Christmas, James would consider himself a failure at his work. The question was, would he get her there all in one piece?

 **A/N: So, Caroline's got two sets of extra lessons, Harry's being pushed further and drugged deeper, and James is trying his hand at Animagus training. Also, those of you who have opted to…take a break until chapter 135 – I totally get it. By all means, do what you've gotta do. I hope to see you back on the other side!**

 **Review Prompt: Any bets on Caro's form?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Does Parvati know or suspect anything, or does she know nothing? (Michand)**

 **A: Well, it's pretty clear now that she knows something, but this was asked several chapters ago. She doesn't know all the details or end-goals, but Parvati's known about Bliss for some time. After all, you didn't all think Padma tested this on herself, did you? She had to have a test subject before she dared use it on Catherine.**

 **Q: Is [the correlation between Harry's ability to fight the Imperius and his resistance to Bliss] what you meant when you said Karkaroff was part of the growing darkness, because it highlighted Catherine's inability to resist that curse? (Emmy)**

 **A: That's part of it, but a smaller part than you might think. That's more connected to the darkness in Part 3 than this, although it's a factor. What I meant was that particular instance began a series of antisocial and unhealthy coping mechanisms, which is how this whole mess with Padma started. She wasn't going to fight, because Catherine was looking for an escape from her reality, and this is exactly what Padma offered her. By the time she might have started getting uncomfortable, she was so far under thumb, I don't know if she could ever drag herself out on her own.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	127. I Take You

**A/N: Here's Bonus 3! We're well into earning another bonus, too, so I think it's safe to expect another this week.**

 **-C**

Dorcas slipped off her bag by the door, tossing her keys in the little bowl on the side table and pulling off her scarf. She could smell dinner and she smiled to herself. Fabian took the afternoon off, saying there was nothing to do in the office, but she knew full well Gideon was covering his hours for him. Those two thought they were so clever, but she had them figured out long ago.

"What's that smell?" she called out.

"Chinese!" he said brightly.

Well, that was nice. As much as it was lovely when her husband cooked for her, she actually rather enjoyed when they didn't have as much washing up afterwards, and on holidays, Chinese or curry were really the best.

She was just unclasping her robes as she stepped into the kitchen, the oriental spices assaulting her senses and her mouth salivating.

So, there was a lot of salt. Dorcas really didn't care. The little eggy patties she'd forgotten the name of with the shrimp in them were screaming out to her, and she sat down, grabbing a fork before even saying hello to her husband. He laughed, kissing her temple and setting a glass of sweet wine beside her plate.

"Hungry, then?" he teased.

"You've no idea," she groaned. "Hermione Granger is a boon to the department, but she's got more energy than anything you've ever seen before. Some of her ideas, I swear, revolutionary, and so well-thought-through, they just might work. She's breaking ground I thought it would take generations to cover. But I've missed lunch the last couple of days because we get so caught up in work and reading and reviews, we forget about it until afternoon meetings have begun and there's no time."

"Doesn't sound healthy, dove," he said, almost mournfully. "Don't worry, we'll get you sorted." He winked. "You'll just have to make lunch dates with your husband and put them in your appointment book so you don't forget."

She snorted.

He'd bought her an appointment book, which screamed at her if she hadn't gone to the written location by the time the appointment in question was scheduled to begin. It was handy, because Dorcas did tend to get caught up and forget things. Sometimes, though, it drove her absolutely mad.

"We'll see," she said, kissing his cheek. She dished up some fried rice, probably more than she needed, and poured a bit of the sauce from the eggy patty things onto the rice, mixing it all up together. Dorcas wasn't one for mixing her foods and sauces, typically, but she loved it with Chinese food. If she was eating foods where it didn't taste right mixed all up, then she was eating the wrong foods. Sirius had her hooked on these eggy patties during the years directly after the war, and now she found she couldn't order Chinese without them.

She just knew they came with number four at the local place. Not what they were called.

"In case you were wondering," Fabian said playfully, "I've had a terribly busy day."

"I'll bet," she teased. "Taking half the day off? I'm sure you had so much to get done in the time you were at work, you didn't know what to do with yourself."

"Pish-posh and tosh," he teased, winking. "No, I meant after I came home. Plenty of work to do here, you know."

"You didn't cook," she said, frowning slightly, trying to figure what he was on about.

"No," he said, nodded with a feigned earnestness. "But I had to consider the bath I drew for you, the candles and whatnot. And then there's the spread upstairs."

"Spread?" she asked.

Whatever it was, it sounded ominous, but given the burn in her husband's eyes, it had something to do with sex.

"You'll see," he said, his lips twitching. "It's been in the works for ages now, dove. Tonight is all about you."

She hummed as she shoveled Chinese food into her mouth. Somehow, she didn't totally believe him, but she was willing to go along with it for the sake of not having a silly squabble on Valentine's Day. She'd decided long ago when men said the night was all about the woman, what they really meant was the night was all about feeling they were powerful and special because they could achieve all the woman's desires. Well-meaning, but selfish nonetheless.

Still, Dorcas supposed she'd probably enjoy herself, and she wouldn't be upset if Fabian got some pleasure out of it.

"Let's just focus on food for the moment," she said, refilling her plate as he sipped his wine, watching her with amusement. "I hadn't realized how hungry I was."

"Probably lack of lunch," he said with mock thoughtfulness. "Don't eat too much, mind. There's a luscious dessert, and I'd hate for you to be too full to enjoy it."

"Was that an innuendo?" she prompted, raising an eyebrow and shoving her fork into the second bit of eggy patty, getting some shrimp on the prongs.

"Only if you want it to be," he said eagerly, his eyes burning once again.

Dorcas only laughed through her squishing and stirring the sauce into her rice. She'd essentially married a nymphomaniac, she decided, but there were times when it wasn't such a bad thing.

Like right about now, she thought, rubbing her foot along his knee playfully. Now was nice.

/-/

Narcissa poured a glass of wine and watched the cool red liquid settle in the glass. Lucius had been ill for almost a week. She'd called in Healers, called in experts from the continent, and even called in Lily Potter, who had made a suggestion Narcissa had put off as long as possible.

Now there was nothing for, though. She would have to call in Severus Snape.

He would tell her much the same as what the others had told her, but he would understand how she felt about it in a way no one else could.

Because Lucius was dying, and nothing even Severus could do would make it stop.

/-/

Ginny brushed a bit of her hair over her shoulder as Blaise sipped his wine, glancing around at other nearby tables. There weren't many – Carrogan's was a high-end, exclusive dining experience only the wealthiest and most glamorous wizards and witches could get on the list for. The Black family could have secured a table any day of the week, and now Ginny was a starter for the Harpies, she could match the stature of Blaise and the Blacks, but her parents wouldn't have stood a chance.

The twins, perhaps, but not her parents.

Blaise motioned for the waiter, and she supposed he was going to ask for the dessert menu, but she was surprised when the waiter filled champagne glasses and set a small, velvet-lined box in the center of the table between the young couple. He bowed his head slightly and left without a word.

Ginny felt her heart pounding as Blaise opened the box with confidence, turning it around so she could see the large but refined diamond ring.

"Yes," she said, knowing he wouldn't bother to voice the question. Some things in life were just so simple, and marrying Blaise was definitely one of them.

/-/

Luna tapped her fingers on the windowsill of Ron's flat, looking out at the slushy rain that fell all over Hogsmeade. She hummed to herself, wondering what would make their Valentine's Day a good one. It was nearly over, but she stood abruptly, knowing for certain what she wanted and needed.

"Today," she said, and he started where he'd begun to doze on the sofa.

"What's today?" he asked, looking around. "I didn't forget Valentine's Day. Did I forget something else? Ginny didn't have a match, did she?"

"No," Luna said smoothly, kissing the top of his head, caressing his face with her thin fingers. His face was always so warm. "We should get married today."

He shook his sleeve back with a jerk of his arm and glanced at the time on his wristwatch.

"Leaving it a bit to the last minute, isn't it? Does the Ministry take marriages this late on a Saturday?"

"Yes, I checked about a month ago."

"You knew we were getting married at dinnertime on a Saturday?"

"No," she said, sweeping her blonde curls off her shoulder. "I wanted to be prepared for anything. Put on a jumper. It's cold."

Ron looked like he might argue or protest for a moment, but then he closed his mouth, shrugged, and took the jumper she handed him before grabbing his keys. That was the lovely thing about Ron, she thought as she took his hand. He didn't ask unnecessary questions about the important things. They wanted to get married, so when it felt right to get married, what was there left to discuss?

Once the flat was locked, they Apparated directly to London, took the visitor's entrance to the Ministry, and Luna led the way once inside to the information desk, where their wands were measured and they were directed to the appropriate department.

"You're just in time," the elderly wizard at the desk said kindly as he handed back their wands. "They stop taking people in half an hour."

"We know," Luna said, smiling, and leading Ron off to get married.

/-/

Aeson watched with a scowl as Ourania Prewett allowed Stewart whatever-his-surname-was to kiss her neck. He didn't think much of her generally, but she was certainly worth better than _that_. And it seemed that the more he told her that she was better than the idiot she was dating, the less Ourania listened to him. He had half a mind to point it out to Caroline, but he wasn't certain it would do much good. Instead, he watched, with a flash of thoughts of all the gruesome ways he could put Stewart off Ourania for the rest of his life.

It was tempting, terribly tempting, although Aeson didn't think too deeply on why. There were all manner of spells and potions he could use, or a good, old-fashioned Muggle fist-to-jaw tactic. Potter hadn't had this problem. Catherine had the good sense to ignore all unsuitable suitors without Potter intervening. And Caroline hadn't made the best choice, but Aeson had decided that Damon Prewett suited her, somehow.

But Ourania didn't seem to understand, and Aeson thought of using his wand right this moment to scald Stewart. Perhaps he could cause it so every time Stewart touched her skin he felt a horrible burning and itching. Yes, it didn't have to be something that sent him to the hospital wing, but there were many possibilities to consider.

"Everything alright?" he heard Uncle Sirius's voice say somewhere behind him as he moved away from the window looking down on the Charm's corridor. He faced his uncle and nodded.

Uncle Sirius didn't seem convinced, and he crossed to look at what was going on in the Charm's corridor.

"Ah," he said, frowning slightly. "Well. Some people make…interesting choices, don't they?"

It was the most diplomatic way that Uncle Sirius could agree with Aeson's sentiment on the matter. Aeson just hummed his agreement. He was momentarily shocked when his uncle clapped his shoulder supportively, and then he accepted when a cup of tea was offered.

Not that he needed it, Aeson told himself. There was no reason to need it. He was simply being polite.

/-/

Damon was shaking as he kissed Caroline's neck, wishing he could touch every part of her. He'd ached at the thought of it for months now, and he wasn't sure he could stop himself for long.

He was surprised when Caroline pulled back from his kisses and began removing her bra and knickers very slowly, very purposefully. The look she gave him said quite clearly what she wanted, but he thought it was too good to be true.

"You're sure?" he said, his voice small, faint, hungry.

"Do you want to be inside me or not?" she demanded, her fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers.

Damon didn't need asking twice.

/-/

Remus hated patrolling the corridors on the night of Valentine's Day. Many of the older students had been drinking. Some of them would try to find private (somewhat) places to try to have sexual relations. He opened so many broom cupboards to find snogging teenagers that sometimes he thought it would be easier just to tell them to go out and copulate with the staff's blessing on this particular day. It would save them all a lot of time and trouble.

He paused as he thought about his own time in school, all the girls he never kissed, the dates he never went on, the cards never sent. He'd had his options, as Sirius had so frequently reminded him, but Remus never felt right dating someone with his condition. And how could he tell a perfectly nice girl what he was?

Now the world knew, and he was a spokesperson, and Lily had all but cured him of the worst of his affliction…sometimes he wished he could go back and live those precious years over again, make the mistakes his peers made, the ones his students were making. He was too old to make those choices now, and it wouldn't be the same, anyway.

He knew it did no good, but he told himself the tiny twinge of envy was only natural.

/-/

Colin felt slightly sick with worry as he sat with Rhea in his flat, just staring at each other. He wasn't sure she was even completely interested in him, not the way he was interested in her, but here he sat, his pulse pounding, his mouth completely dry. She looked beautiful in the candlelight.

"I'm going to ask something," he finally said, after running it over and over in his mind what felt like a million times. "And I don't want you to answer right away unless you feel totally sure, because it's…it's very important. I don't want you to feel pressured."

Rhea seemed to be holding her breath. He wondered what she was thinking, expecting, wanting him to say. He wished he knew exactly what to say to her all the time so he didn't have to feel this horrible anxiety as he tried to express how he felt.

"I know we've not had as many dates as we'd both like," he said, aware he was speaking too quickly, "and part of that's my fault, and some of it's down to your travelling. But I…I feel like we've been together for forever and I'd really like it if you…if you stayed with me tonight. If you…if you didn't go home. If you didn't go at all."

He swallowed the very little saliva his mouth had managed to generate, but it wasn't enough to sooth the dryness in the back of his throat.

Rhea tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Colin realized he was staring at her, which probably felt terribly like pressure. He swallowed mostly air, turning away from her gaze, wishing there were an easier way to do all of this. Why was everything so easy when he saw Catherine and Harry interact, but when he tried to interact with the person he loved, he felt like his tongue would swell up and he'd lose all sense of appropriate word choice and grammar?

"Alright," Rhea finally said.

Colin wasn't totally sure he'd heard her, and he whipped his head around to be sure it hadn't all been his wishful thinking. She was still looking back at him expectantly, and he realized he couldn't be totally certain she'd said what he so hoped he'd heard.

"What?"

"Alright," she said, smiling slightly. "I'd love to stay."

/-/

Padma watched hungrily as Harry – on an extra-large dose of Bliss to ensure the compliance for this stage – prepared himself to be entered by his wife. It was almost too pleasant, seeing Catherine readying herself to thrust a strap-on into her husband to please Padma.

In time, this submission to Padma's will, which both were exhibiting so eagerly, even through this ordeal, which Padma signaled for Catherine to begin, would lead to the bringing of others into Bliss, into the worship of Catherine and the subsequent worship of herself. She had a list forming in her mind already, but she knew where to start.

The others may not have seen the seeds of devotion for what they were, did not understand Ryana Cotton for what she was, but Padma could see. Padma could understand. The fact Catherine never realized only made the final corruption more delicious. Ryana would be an easy target for Catherine to cut her teeth on, and once the exhilaration of the event was planted in Catherine, the association with pleasure, the act of gaining Ryana's adoration secured…. Then other, more difficult targets could be acquired.

"Parvati," she said, motioning for her sister to approach as Harry seemed to muddle, confused, between pleasure and pain. "Help him find his pleasure."

Parvati nodded, sinking to her knees in front of where Harry was standing, legs spread. Parvati took him into her mouth as Catherine continued her rhythmic thrusting, and Harry's face changed, the could passing as he could focus only on the combination of pleasing sensations and the enhancement of Bliss. Even the pain would be pleasure, soon enough. With the dose he was on, he might even beg to repeat the encounter.

Padma moved to Catherine, tracing a hand up the girl's naked body, caressing her breasts and kissing her neck.

"Very good," she whispered into Catherine's ear. "Harder and faster. When he comes, you'll get to taste me."

Catherine whimpered at the promise, and Padma smiled, knowing that when she finally gave Catherine some Bliss, the night would go up even another notch. It was so gratifying, how little incentive Catherine needed to do as she was told. Like the commands were the only stimulant she needed.

/-/

Jimmy pressed his lips to Cora's hand and felt the warmth of her skin on his lips, relishing the scent of her lotion and the feeling of being close to her. He had all sorts of thoughts of what he would do if he could do whatever she wanted. She hummed, pulling her hand free of his hold and brushed her fingertips across his cheekbone lovingly.

"It's nice," he said, taking her hand again and kissing the inside of her wrist gently. "Being alone with you."

"Yeah," she said, and he enjoyed the flush of her cheeks.

"We should do it more often," he muttered, kissing her wrist again, savoring the smell and feel of her. "Not just holidays. I don't need any excuses for wanting to be with you."

Her skin was flushed even more pink and he kissed her lips, wishing he could make the night last longer, wishing he had Jason's ability to pull off whatever he wanted. He'd take her upstairs, or maybe just engage in deep, intent kisses right there on the sofa in the common room. If he had Jason's luck, he'd never get caught and Cora would never say no, and everything would turn out perfectly. As it was, Jimmy didn't have very good luck, so he contented himself with lingering kisses on Cora's lips.

"Beautiful," he sighed against her mouth.

Cora sighed into his lips and he wondered if she realized how beautiful she was, how perfect, how enticing.

They curled up on the sofa, Cora pressing her head against Jimmy's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. He breathed in her hair and he sighed, enjoying the smoothness of her body, her skin, her hair.

"Could we sleep in your bed tonight?" she sighed. "Not…. I mean, I just don't want to separate, and it wouldn't do to sleep right here."

He felt like he must be dreaming and he said eagerly, "Yeah, I…. Yeah, d'you want to go up now?"

She nodded, and they took an inordinate amount of time sitting up, standing, going up to the dormitory, where all was relatively quiet. Cora sat down on Jimmy's bed, ignoring the light snoring of Dennis, before she laid down on Jimmy's bed, stretching out her legs. He could hardly breathe as he sat down beside her, pulling the curtains around them. He struggled to contain his excitement as he pressed his face to her neck, breathing her in, wishing he could keep her here forever.

"I like this," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "It smells like you."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, wondering what it might smell like.

"No, it's good," she whispered, before pressing a kiss to the top of his head and situating herself so that she was laying her head on his pillow. Jimmy held her tightly, closing his eyes, and thinking it would be lovely to fall asleep like this every night.

/-/

Padma brushed a small curl of hair from a sleeping Catherine's cheek, enjoying the sensation of wiping sweat of the younger woman's skin.

Soon, now. Very soon.

/-/

Natalie felt a strange rush as she walked back to the common room, Kevin walking with her most of the way.

"We should be in bed by now," she said, checking her watch. "We really don't have permission to be out…quite this late."

Kevin sighed, shrugging. They'd got caught up talking and ended up patrolling several hours longer than they technically had to. Still, she'd enjoyed spending the time with him. It was pleasant to have someone to talk to who wasn't…part of her usual friend group. Someone who understood where she came from far more than her usual friend group could.

"I suppose you'll want me to stop here," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. They were very careful about not getting too close to each other's common rooms, to protect the privacy of their Houses.

"I suppose," she said, pausing to tell him goodnight.

He paused, and she sighed, wondering what was on his mind. He had the look of someone who wanted to say something, and while she did want to hear it, she wanted to go to bed as well. She was exhausted.

"You look very nice today," he said softly. "I…have a nice night, Natalie. Sweet dreams and all that."

"Thanks," she said, feeling heat pooling in her cheeks. "Y-you too."

He nodded, and she was surprised when he leaned in, a sort of jerky motion, and then paused again.

Realizing he was anxious, Natalie leaned in and kissed him swiftly, shortly, before pulling away, telling him to have a good night again, and walking away, leaving him wondering whether it had really happened or not.

 **A/N: So, Hermione's tearing it up at the Ministry, relationships of all sorts progress in all directions, Lucius is dying, and there's another MARRIAGE.** **Ron and Luna. Love them.**

 **Review Prompt: If you had to choose between the Black's relationship, the Potter's relationship, or the Prewett's relationship, which would you want? I'd have a hard time choosing between Potters or Prewetts.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Isn't this getting pretty close to almost incest if she actually does use Parvati in that way? (Guest)**

 **A: Well, if you define incest as siblings being present and active in the same sexual situation, then I suppose, yes. But there will not be any sexual touching or activity between the Patil sisters, no. It's just not going to happen.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	128. Elves and Wrackspurts

**A/N: Here's Bonus 4! You guys are marvelous, truly.**

 **-C**

It was a busy day for Draco Malfoy, full of meetings and forms and decisions to pass on to the Minister. Of course, this was every day for Draco, and he didn't truly mind, but unlike most days, this was a day full of meetings with and forms about his former schoolmates.

He checked all the paperwork on the conference table to be sure it was in order before telling the secretary to let in the other members of the meeting.

In walked Madam Prewett, followed closely by a mildly nervous Hermione Granger. Draco nodded to Hermione, who forced a weak smile, and Amos Diggory closed the door before sitting down with them.

"Now," Draco said, gesturing for the secretary to begin, "let's start with Miss Granger stating her proposal for the meeting record."

Madam Prewett gave Hermione an encouraging nod and Draco folded his hands, waiting and hoping he didn't look too imposing. Madam Prewett suggested he try to be a bit warmer when he was hearing proposals like this. Draco wasn't entirely certain what she meant, but he supposed it meant on the continuum of Uncle Sirius, Uncle Rabastan, and his own father, he should be somewhere between the two uncles.

"My proposal," Hermione said in a clear, slightly trembling voice, "is to create a foundation with Ministry protection and a small baseline of Ministry funding to promote the rights and welfare of the house-elf. This would feature research into the condition and needs of the house-elf, the promoting legal condition and promotion of needs of the house-elf, and formulating programs for the education and improvement of the house-elf. It…it builds on the work of Madam Prewett into the legal protections by trying to pinpoint why these protections have been underperforming and then finding the most effective ways to boost their benefits to the intended population."

"You say minimal Ministry funding," Draco said, turning to the budget request in the packet he'd been given on the matter. "There's hardly much in your budget proposal to accomplish half what you've suggested. How can you guarantee this will be a sustainable endeavor on such a low funding level?"

"We've set up a structure of large donation promises," Madam Prewett said, passing Draco a freshly copied sheet of parchment. "The endowment, as you can see, would be quite large, and from respectable families to add public profile to the project."

Draco's eyes scanned the sheet, although he knew without reading what names it would have. Mr. and Mrs. James Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Black, Rabastan Lestrange, his own parents, Luna Weasley, Madam Augusta Longbottom, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Longbottom, and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – as a corporation. He silently mused if the endowment proved too little, he knew several people he could twist into parting with some gold for the project, including Astoria's family. He was mildly surprised Blaise wasn't already on the list, but he could be added as well.

"A sizable start," Draco said, setting down the sheet and looking back up to the trio sitting across from him. "Describe for me the research structure you imagine for this…" He checked the front sheet of the proposal. "House-Elf Rights Foundation."

"I plan to be working on the research portion," Hermione said, smiling weakly. "Overseeing a research staff that will likely consist of myself and one further person at first, more if it becomes necessary and possible. This would delve into the history of house-elf welfare, or lack thereof, the legal structure surrounding their condition, the looser social expectations surrounding their condition. That will be traced up the modern era, to find how the situation today exists as it does.

"From there, I plan to examine what the current condition of house-elves is nation-wide. This would involve home visits to all registered house-elves, beginning at Hogwarts and then creating a schedule from there. This could be done in two years, I believe. There's also the dimension of considering the condition of house-elves internationally, comparing how their condition has developed under different circumstances, and to consider how similar creature concerns have been handled both domestically and abroad to try to formulate a solution."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Draco said ironically, "very thorough. No doubt the research would inform your legal restructuring and recommendations to Madam Prewett and Mr. Diggory."

Hermione nodded, and she cleared her throat anxiously. "Yes, quite," she said quickly. "And once the legal structure and research are in place, education and other services can be set up in the most appropriate and comprehensive manner possible. It is difficult, if not impossible, to give you a better idea of what it will look like before the research stage is complete. Or rather, it would be unfair to do so, as my expectations would be based on my preconceptions and not considered fact."

"Naturally," Draco said, fighting the smirk curling at his lips. "Well, thank you very much, Miss Granger. Mr. Diggory, anything to add?"

"Only that we would expect full Ministry backing when going through the research and enactment stages," Amos said with a frown. "Some families have already proven resistant to previous efforts to improve the lives of their elves and there may need to be…reminders, gentle or otherwise, how these are ministry-approved measures."

Draco made a small note of this, to consider his options of enforcement, his own father in mind when he thought of the sort of person this pertained to. He thought immediately of asking his mother what the best method was for managing that sort of person.

"Of course," Draco said, and he nodded to Madam Prewett to add anything she meant to add, although Madam Prewett said there was nothing further to say, and Miss Granger had covered the matter splendidly.

"We'll be back to you by the end of the week," Draco said firmly, nodding to his secretary to stop recording. "You have my personal guarantee it won't be a minute longer."

/-/

Hermione left the meeting feeling nauseous, but Madam Prewett told her this was perfectly normal. She had a great deal of experience in these matters, and she told Hermione there was nothing to be concerned about.

"I have complete faith Draco takes after his mother, and I am convinced he will champion your cause being pushed through."

Although it was hard to admit, Hermione had to agree with Madam Prewett on this. She was wringing her hands, nonetheless, and she asked if there was anything more she could do to ensure success.

Madam Prewett smiled kindly and said, "Hermione, my dear, there is a great deal of waiting involved in government. I wish I could tell you there's a way to snap your fingers and make things happen, but the most important ingredients in my success are patience and persistence. I believe that you have persistence, but you'll have to cultivate some patience with the thick skin I told you about."

Hermione nodded, returning to her desk and sitting down to the stack of paperwork needing to be reviewed for signing or repealing, things she had to pass off to Mr. Diggory and Madam Prewett.

She checked her watch and knew Draco was headed to another meeting, one about Magical Creatures again, but this one with Mr. Diggory and the Minister. She was excited about it, knowing they were considering possible awardees for work with Magical Creatures. Madam Prewett had earned the award in question several years ago, and Luna was up for the award now. It was possible she wouldn't get it this year – being so young and so new – but Draco assured Hermione odds were good she would win it soon. Her name being on the list at all was quite an accomplishment.

Hermione signed three forms and made a small stack of forms needing to be passed on to Mr. Diggory, when he left his meeting. As soon as she saw him reenter their office, she scooped up the stack, such as it was for the moment, and took the excuse to ask him how it went. She set the papers down in his inbox and he thanked her, picking up a file he'd been working on before they'd left for their morning meeting.

She cleared her throat and said, "How did it go?"

"Very well," he said, not looking up, his face completely unreadable.

"Did…did you make the decisions?"

Mr. Diggory looked up, still unreadable, and he said, "Miss Granger, you will get to hear the final decisions with everyone else, when they are formally announced and not before. Now please allow me to do my work."

She apologized and returned to her desk, but she was sure she saw his lips turn upward as she turned to leave him.

/-/

Brontes sat in the library, studying for his exams, and pretending he wasn't surreptitiously watching his cousin and her friends on the other side of the library. Caroline wasn't bothering with studying, of course, but with whisper-gossiping while Ourania, Damon, and Rose Zeller studied. And Brontes watched Rose continually pulling the curtain of blonde hair from her eyes as she leaned over books, and he felt his hands continually twitch to raise the curtain for her. But he did not join them.

/-/

Padma smiled watching Catherine write the letters to Ryana Cotton and Ginny Weasley. The arrangements were nearly finished, and everything would be perfect. Harry had taken well to his training, and Catherine was admirable. Padma needed new challenges now, and new people to bend toward her ultimate vision for Catherine.

"There," Catherine said dreamily. "All done. Do we have time?"

Padma glanced at the clock, sighing. If Catherine didn't leave now, she wouldn't make it to her shop in time to open promptly. There were always people at the shop at opening – one of the prices of success and excellence.

"Not today, pet," Padma said, watching Catherine deflate slightly before she scrambled to get ready for work. Padma waited for Catherine to leave before strolling up the hall to where Harry was lounging in the guest bedroom, his eyes slightly glassy as he stared at the ceiling.

"Enjoying your day off?" Padma cooed, smiling at how he turned at the sound of her voice. She unwrapped her dressing gown and he sat up, eager. He'd already been dosed, per her instructions. No sense in having no fun just because Catherine had work.

/-/

Neville rubbed his neck, pacing the corridor of his parents' house. He was coming back permanently from Gibraltar, he'd already decided, but he wanted to wait to find out whether Hermione was given the foundation she was forming or not before he knew when he was going to break the news to her. His mother told him to find something to occupy himself with to avoid creating unnecessary stress, but Neville couldn't help it. He'd tried reading, writing letters, poking at the plants in the back garden, but he couldn't focus on anything longer than about thirty seconds before his mind wandered to what Hermione was up to, and whether she had any good news yet. He thought about writing her, and even rummaged up a quill and some ink to do it, but his mother gave him a very stern warning to leave it be or Hermione would just be irritated.

Feeling all the energy leave his legs in one moment, Neville collapsed from pacing into a nearby wingback chair, looking across the corridor at a decorative mirror. He frowned at it, seeing how his face had thinned, almost elongated. He was cutting his hair a bit scruffier, not as structured as when he went to school. It was easier to maintain in the greenhouses in Gibraltar, while he was busy with other things.

He could have gone back to his eleven-year-old self and not recognized himself. The same was true of Hermione, in a way. She'd gone from quirky, frizzy, bookish to somehow womanly, smooth, and business-like. She'd tamed the things she didn't like about herself when they were young, and while Neville liked her both ways, there was something quite alluring about the way she was doing herself up lately. And something even more alluring, knowing he was the only one who got to see her hair wild and frizzy anymore.

"She'll write when she's ready, Neville," his mother said kindly. She must have thought he was despairing rather than contemplating. "Just try to be patient."

It was easier to nod than argue, so Neville nodded, humming his agreement with his mother. She gave him another smile and walked off to the library. She'd be back to check on him again, maybe in ten minutes, to make sure he wasn't worked up into a frenzy again, but Neville sighed, feeling the calm of contemplation, thinking of the life he was going to build with Hermione, once her foundation was approved.

Because it had to be approved.

/-/

Jason frowned as he tried to decide what to do about his History of Magic exam. Strictly speaking, he didn't feel he needed the extra revising, but it was probably good for his study group to go over the material, and he did have immaculate notes. It wouldn't be fair not to join in. But he felt he could really use some extra time on Muggle Studies, where he was desperate to get a high score to get a position he wanted.

"If I give you my notes," he said, frowning at the stack of notes, "would you be alright for me to leave?"

His friends exchanged glances, and Cora looked a bit queasy. After a long moment, though, Natalie nodded and said, "I can decipher your notes, Jason. It's fine. Go do what you want to do, whatever that is."

Jason felt relieved, but he gave Cora an apologetic smile, knowing she was the one who took the exams most seriously, and would be the most highly strung about the whole thing. He'd try to make it up to her later, if he could think of how.

/-/

Draco felt a rush as he personally folded the signed form into a folder, and then shoved the folder into the proposal file, carrying the whole packet out of his office and telling his secretary he'd be back in about half an hour, at the latest, but he had to make some rounds of the Ministry.

She said nothing, as there was nothing especially out of the ordinary about this. Draco went straight for the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, not getting side-tracked by people who greeted him or a man in the elevator from Magical Maintenance who said he wanted a moment of Draco's time later, if he could spare it.

No, he strolled into the department, right up to Hermione Granger's desk and dropped the packet on top of a large stack of papers. She started, looking up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

In his best pureblood drawl, he said, "You'd better get down to work, Granger," he said, half, sneering. "After all, you're going to be exceedingly busy for the foreseeable future."

He turned and walked away, knowing her jaw would drop when she opened the folder, but he had other places to be, starting with a drop-in to Magical Law Enforcement.

His work never ended.

/-/

Colin and Rhea were having lunch at a Muggle Italian restaurant when they got news from Luna she'd been informed by Draco Malfoy she'd got the award for her efforts in Magizoology.

"Incredible," Rhea said, smiling an irrepressible smile that Colin thought was especially attractive. He touched her hand and hummed his agreement. "I mean, who would have figured she could actually prove the existence of Wrackspurts?"

"I'm thinking nobody," Colin said with a laugh. "I mean, they didn't have quite the nature she expected, but they do exist, oddly enough."

Rhea laughed and Colin suggested they order dessert, maybe some tiramisu, to celebrate. She could hardly argue, and as they ate their tiramisu, Rhea said they really ought to have some celebration, throw a party, get everybody together, including Ginny and Catherine. Colin frowned slightly, but he nodded.

Catherine had been distant lately, but he knew her apothecary kept her very, very busy. Of course, she would certainly want to celebrate Luna's prestigious accomplishment, but they'd have to find a time that worked with her decidedly busy schedule. He said as much, and Rhea agreed to write her first thing when they left the restaurant.

Colin relaxed as he finished his dessert, enjoying just being alone with Rhea. It was strange to think how many years he'd spent wishing he had her as his girlfriend before he finally could say he dated her. And to look at them now, they'd been together forever.

/-/

Dorcas congratulated Hermione on her way out for the night, after informing her she'd got word Luna Weasley had been selected for the award in Magizoology. It was good to see the pleased glint in Hermione's eyes, to know this day would be something of a high for Hermione, possibly the highest she felt for some time to come.

Another day, another high would eventually come. For now, though, Hermione was young, and the world was at her feet. Dorcas had no doubts Hermione would do an exemplary job on the matter of house-elves, better than Dorcas had ever been able to do. Because where Dorcas had personal passion for cases of part-humans such as Remus, Hermione had an extreme passion for the issues of house-elves.

"You have a wonderful night, Hermione," Dorcas said, clapping her shoulder and smiling. "Savor it. I foresee this as the first of a very long line of successes for you."

"Thank you, Madam Prewett," Hermione said, grinning. "I certainly hope so."

 **A/N: So, Hermione's got her AU version of SPEW, Neville's moving back from Gibraltar, and Luna's getting a prize for her discovery of Wrackspurts! Not half-bad, all told.**

 **Review Prompt: Thoughts on Draco and Hermione in their Ministry roles?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Is [marrying so young] really healthy for their relationships? (Guest)**

 **A: This question referred not just to Harry and Catherine, but to the wizarding world at large. It's certainly a very good point. Obviously, not all of them are in the same emotional/maturity/development zones, so for some people it makes more sense than others. On the whole, no, I don't think it's especially healthy. At least not as quickly as Harry and Catherine got married. Giving it a year or two, having security in their own lives before joining together, that's not so bad. Ron and Luna would have been 19 and 20 when they were married, ish, both had jobs, and waited until it felt right.**

 **Q: When Padma's eventually gone, will there be consequences in Harry and Catherine's relationship, since Harry is now in the spare bedroom? (Michand)**

 **A: Will there be consequences? Absolutely. I won't get into too much detail on those consequences – you'll find out soon enough. It's going to take time for healing, coming to terms with what happened and how everything works out. And then there will be the detoxing. It will be painful. Remember, there's about thirty chapters left, and only about seven with Padma. Most of the rest will be dealing with the consequences and implications.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	129. Ensnaring

**A/N: You guys are the most fabulous thing. I've got Bonus 5 for you, and I have to say I woke up with the loveliest surprise! An (apparently) new guest reader had reviewed EVERYTHING while I was sleeping! I say apparently, because either this wasn't a new person, or we have a very good guesser on our hands…. I concede the possibility, and they did legit reviews with answers to my prompts, even. So get ready for an onslaught of chapters…. This will take us well past Padma's downfall, guys. Be excited. You'll get there today.**

 **-C**

At the award ceremony, Harry felt anxious, sitting between his wife and Neville, who'd showed up with a radiant Hermione on his arm. Under the table, Harry scratched his fingernails on his trouser leg, both wishing Padma had given him some Bliss before they'd left and thrilled she hadn't. His mind seemed the clearest it had been in months, maybe longer, and he was noticing things, things disturbing and exciting to him. Quiet conversations between his wife and a doe-eyed, eager-to-please Ryana Cotton, not any different from how things were in school, but either Ryana didn't notice the way Catherine's hand lingered on her arm or she didn't mind.

And what did it all mean?

Harry knew he was supposed to be pleased for Luna and her award, and in some portion of his mind he was terribly pleased. But that portion of his mind was somewhere on the periphery as he carried on conversations with friends who almost felt like strangers after so long in his haze. The world was duller without Bliss. Wasn't it?

And yet, colors and people seemed sharper, Hermione's brilliance seemed all the brighter, and Neville's kindness all the greater. When they commented he and Kitty certainly spent a lot of time wrapped up in each other his hand itched for a cigarette, but instead went to his drink to cover his anxiety. Could they see the life he'd hidden under the veneer of his daily life for so long it was a film on his skin? Did they know exactly what he only half-remembered doing and having done to him in a cascade of pleasure and submission and desire? How could Catherine so easily seem herself when he felt like a stranger?

"You really must come soon," she said to Ginny, resting her hand on Ginny's arm, as though this was nothing.

Was it nothing? Harry couldn't recall if they'd ever done this at school, this potentially-innocent touches of the hand or arm. And even if it had been innocent then, what did it mean now?

His mind was racing, and for the first time he felt nausea at the thought of going home after the ceremony. He'd be dosed again, and he'd be pleased to take the pill. And once he'd had the Bliss, he'd do anything suggested, and it would be the greatest idea in the world. Even thinking about it was getting him hard, the memory of pleasure. And yet he could feel himself sweating, and he ached for a cigarette.

He almost wanted to stay at Neville's for the night, but he couldn't just let Catherine go back there without him. At least he was in the building most of the time when the Patils were doing…whatever they were doing with Catherine.

Or was it to Catherine?

He wasn't sure anymore. Catherine always seemed so eager, so pleased, so excited by every suggestion, on and off Bliss. On some level, and maybe all levels, she wanted this. And who was Harry to ever try to keep Catherine from something she wanted? After all, it wasn't hurting her.

Was it?

No, a voice in the back of his mind said soothingly, almost as pleasant as the pill itself. Catherine wasn't being hurt, she was being glorified and freed, purified and worshiped, shaped and perfected. And a wave of gratitude and adoration filled him, that Padma had allowed him to be part of this, to be able to bring his wife this much pleasure and satisfaction, whatever his role.

He would be going home with Catherine, taking his Bliss, and submitting, because good boys always submitted.

/-/

Ron's pride in his wife as she accepted her award was boundless. She seemed to float onto the stage, accepting the award graciously and gracefully. When she floated back to him, refusing to give the customary speech and thereby puzzling more than a few people who didn't know her personally, Ron almost laughed.

It was so very Luna.

"Madam Weasley," Draco said calmly, "wishes me to say only how she is very grateful for the honor and recognition, and hopes you take some of your time in future to read her published works on the topic of her work, as it would be impossible for you to understand or believe the breadth and depth of her work in the field of magizoology without reading it for yourselves. Thank you. Have a pleasant evening, all."

"You could have said it yourself, you know," Ron teased, knowing Luna despised public speaking. It was the expressions of the people in the audience, all trying to decide what to make of her instead of listening to her words.

"Yes, but if Draco says it, they actually hear it."

Ron just shook his head, offering her some of his cheesecake, not because he was full, but because he knew the best way to show how proud he was of his wife was to share his food. The look she gave him as he offered up his fork told him plain as words that she understood the gesture and was touched by it.

And as a testament of how much she loved him, Luna turned down the fork, kissing his cheek.

Ron wondered, as he shoveled the rest of his cheesecake greedily into his mouth, how in the name of Merlin he'd managed to find a wife who understood him so well. He only wished Neville managed to wrangle Hermione down the aisle and find the same kind of marital bliss he and Harry had found.

"Have you spoken to Kitty this evening?" Ron asked.

"Oh, yes," Luna said, tilting her head thoughtfully to where Catherine was sipping a drink in the corner with Ginny. "I think she must be ill. She doesn't seem quite herself."

/-/

Jimmy rubbed his eyes as he tried to keep the words in his notes separate in his mind. After reading pages and pages and pages of notes, the words were all starting to blur together, and he wasn't sure he was going to make it to his final year. Cora set a butterbeer in front of him and he didn't even look up or ask where she got it or anything. He simply groaned in acknowledgement and blinked rapidly, trying to clarify the images in front of him.

"Jimmy, you're going to drop if you keep on like this," Cora's kind voice said softly. "You need to do something to unwind. C'mon, come and rest your eyes. Rest, please."

He sighed. The voice sound of her voice was so soft. He wanted to rest his head on her lap and just sleep forever, but he'd sworn to finish what he started.

Then Jason's voice said, "If he's going to be stubborn, leave him. We can always carry him to the infirmary once he's passed out."

Jimmy groaned, not sure what he was trying to communicate, but Cora knelt next to him, kissing his cheek. His head turned slightly toward the kiss, even as she was pulling it away. Jimmy let her hands draw him over to the sofa, and he laid down, sighing as she laid down beside him, resting her head on his chest.

"Can you pass me that?" he heard her say, and he felt something soft and light hit his stomach. Cora scooped it up before he could register what it was, but he felt her gently raising her head, and sliding a cushion underneath it. "Alright, rest, love."

He closed his eyes, but he was aware of Natalie and Cora speaking over him about something. He thought it might be running through Runes or Arithmancy, but the words weren't presenting themselves in ways his mind could order into logic. Or perhaps his brain was broken. Jimmy didn't know, and he honestly didn't care.

He managed to lift his hand to her hair and smooth it under and between his fingers. It was cool overall, but warm in places, and when he brushed the skin of her ear or cheek on accident, he marveled over how soft her skin was. Jimmy focused on deep, steady breaths and ran through his names and dates in his mind, and he tried to imagine what sort of expression there would be on Professor Black's face when he examined the work Jimmy had done thus far on his personal NEWT project.

He should have taken fewer classes, and he knew it. But he wanted to take as many opportunities as possible to be with Cora in classes. They spent most of their time out of class with friends, and he liked to take advantage of the little bit of time he had with her anywhere they could just quietly be in the same physical space. For Jimmy and Cora, that was the way they went about having a relationship, and Jimmy liked it this way. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the lilt of his girlfriend's voice as he drifted off to much-needed sleep.

/-/

Draco gently pressed his hand into Neville's, saying goodbyes to the people he wanted to catch before they left the festivities.

"You look in incredibly high spirits," Draco said conspiratorially. "Still riding the wave of Granger's success?"

Neville's lips twitched and he glanced over to Hermione, who was chattering happily with Ginny, no doubt telling her all about the new foundation and how the early days were going. Draco knew Neville was planning to propose. He saw that same sort of determination, the bounce in the steps but nerves in the shoulders, all the signs he'd seen before Weasley announced his engagement of sorts, or when Harry proposed to Catherine. No matter how crystalized the idea was in Neville's mind, he was going to finally propose to Hermione Granger.

"Good luck," he said softly.

Neville went pale and asked what Draco was talking about. Draco just raised his eyebrows, as if to say Neville was not nearly as opaque as he thought he was.

He then moved through the crowd to Catherine, who was looking thoughtfully at a glass of wine, and he sat beside her, moving the glass away from her and expecting this would jar her to the present, would elicit some sort of annoyed or irritated response. Instead, she just smiled a secret smile and didn't even look at him.

"This world suits you," she said softly. "The glamour and dress robes and vapid old sods who think they're important because they pour their gold into fashionable things. Don't you ever find it tiring to be fashionable?"

"I wouldn't know," he said, amused, "and neither would you. We're those sorts of people who are fashionable just by existing. You wear a color and the whole of the wizarding world takes notice, and dress robes are churned out in the color. You should come into public more often."

She sighed, glancing at the Greengrasses greeting the Parkinsons warmly on the other side of the hall.

"They're so tiresome, Draco. They have no sense of true enjoyment or passion. It's like the whole of the wizarding world is spiritually dead."

"And you're not?" he asked, somehow suddenly feeling nervous about the way she was talking. It was not Catherine. This wasn't the little girl who'd delighted over diamond necklaces and the idea of a lavish party where she could show off for everyone. She'd gone through much since she was a little girl, but he wasn't sure what to make of the things she was saying now.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she glanced over at where Ginny and Ryana were having a quiet conversation, and she said softly, "The things I've seen and done, Draco, in the wrong light…. They would disgust you. But I guarantee that if you allowed me to show you the right lens, you'd find it enthralling, exciting, captivating. No, darling. I'm most certainly not spiritually dead."

He held his breath as she floated away from him to her husband's arm and whispered something in Harry's ear. He watched Harry's face turn slightly red as he nodded and led her out of the hall. Draco felt a foreboding he hadn't felt since the horrible time when she was unconscious in the Hogwarts infirmary, and he didn't know whether she would live or die.

The question was now, bizarrely, was she alive or dead?

/-/

Blaise watched Ginny take down her hair and unclasp her hair, and he swallowed. They'd had a few squabbles about wedding plans lately, mostly things he knew his mother wouldn't relent on, and she also knew her mother wouldn't relent on. He didn't want to feel he was losing her, not when he was so close to having her forever, but he also knew there were certain standards for a man in his position.

"Don't stare at me like that," she said softly, "unless you're planning to do something about it."

He smiled to himself and said, "And what exactly am I doing something about?"

She turned so her beautiful chin jutted over her shoulder, and the look in her eyes said quite plainly what she wanted him to do. Blaise hesitated, though, knowing by giving in to her every whim, he would be setting a tone much like the tone Potter had set with his wife. He didn't want a wife like Astoria, who would lay her own life on hold for Draco, but he wasn't about to jump every time his wife whistled, and he expected her to understand.

"Why don't you tell me what's in it for me," he said, leaning back in his chair, "and I'll think about it."

She laughed and said, "Oh, there's my Slytherin."

Still, she took off her shoes and crossed to him, straddling his lap as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Why don't you start by unzipping me," she whispered just over his lips, "and we'll go from there."

He hummed his approval of the plan before capturing her lips with his as he reached around her for the zip.

/-/

Neville could feel his hands sweating as Hermione poured the wine. He'd gone over this scene over and over and over again, planned and scrapped and planned again everything he would do or say, but he wasn't sure how any of it would go.

"D'you want to just finish the bottle?" she asked. "It's over-filling, a bit, but we've got hardly a half a glass left in here."

"If you don't want it, I'll finish it," he said, sticking his hand in his pocket, feeling the box, and jerking his hand out again as though being bitten.

"So, you're staying in England?" she said, just getting her mind around that piece of news. "Well, what are your plans?"

"Erm, I don't know all of them yet," he said. "It'll depend on some things."

"What things?" she asked, curious but mild as she brought the wine in, and set his down on a coaster in front of him. She took a sip from hers, and Neville felt terribly light-headed. He wondered whether he could actually do this or not, but he thought of Draco's comment of wishing him luck, and he realized he'd been working toward this since eleven.

Now or never.

"On whether or not you agree to marry me," he said sheepishly, pulling the little box out of his pocket and carefully pushing it toward her.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

/-/

Natalie watched Jason snatch up the butterbeer Cora had gotten for Jimmy, and he began to drink it as they watched Jimmy and Cora snoozing on the couch. She crossed her legs and said softly, "Strange, isn't it? We'll be leaving all this in a year."

"Yeah, a bit," Jason said softly.

She was relieved, really, that she and Jason managed to still be friends. He was a good person to be friends with, not just because of his family's stature and his quiet brilliance, but because he was one of the steadiest, most compassionate, most thoughtful people she'd ever known. Despite how they'd left things, they both understood they'd still do anything for each other.

"What are you planning to do?" he asked.

"I honestly don't know," she said softly. "I don't feel ready to grow up. Why, what are you going to do?"

Jason frowned, looking at the butterbeer he'd swiped. In reality, he didn't have to do anything. He would be set for life, regardless. It hadn't ever occurred to her before, but she realized now he might not want to do anything.

"Don't laugh," he finally said.

"Never."

"I…I've thought a lot about what my father does. Not the teaching, mind, but…. Well, the real work that my father and my Uncle and Draco's mother do is in wielding power of the purse, and social power. And all the brilliant ideas in the world, they don't get anywhere without someone with clout backing them up. I haven't found it yet, but I want to find something I'm really passionate about, and I want to throw my clout at it. Crazy, right?"

"No," she said, smiling as he took a long drink of butterbeer. "No, I think that's a wonderful idea."

/-/

Stunned as Hermione was, she was aware enough to realize that Neville was terribly nervous, and she decided that she needed to put him at ease, and quickly, before he sicked up all over the table.

"I guess we'll have to start planning, then, won't we?" she said firmly, slipping the ring on her finger. He brightened instantly. "Of course, we'll have to enlist some help from family, because you'll need to start focusing on building your career here in England, and I've got an awful lot of work to do with my new foundation."

"Perfect," Neville said, his eyes glistening. "That'll be just…perfect."

 **A/N: So, Harry does some thinking with a mostly-clear mind, Catherine behaves unusually and people start to almost notice, and Neville pops the question.**

 **Review Prompt: Of the proposals we've seen, who had the best?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will we see Harry return more to his personality pre-in-love with Kitty? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: This experience will leave both of them quite changed. I don't think either one will go back to exactly what they were, but they will definitely improve from where they're at. As far as his dependence on her, it won't go away, but it will change. Mature might be too strong of a word, but their relationship will…mature.**

 **Q: How much culpability would you, as the author, assign Sirius for the position Catherine is in now? (Emmy)**

 **A: What a lovely and interesting question! This is actually something that will be discussed more extensively in Part 3 (although with added weight), but this isn't a bad time to ponder it. Culpability is maybe too strong a word, but I take your point. His inability to be as firm with her as he should have been (and it really was an inability, not just a reluctance) has definitely allowed things to grow out of control as far as her rebellion and her search for a high. He can't be held totally responsible, because if the thing with Karkaroff and the accident with her coma never happened, she would have almost certainly had a more normal adolescent rebellious period, much like her own father's adolescence, and Padma would probably never have got a foothold. I would say his lack of firm parenting is more a root of the problem than fully at fault for it.**

 **Of course, that won't stop him feeling responsible and beating himself up….**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	130. The Following

**A/N: Here's Bonus 6! Five chapters from the showdown….**

 **-C**

Ginny licked her lips and sat down with Colin, waving for him to get on with it. He was flushed, but he pulled out a little bag from a larger shopping bag. She nodded and grinned, pursing her lips and scrunching them together.

"Well, get on then," she said, grinning. "Let's see it."

He pulled out a little box and opened it, showing a simple, but very classy ring. It wasn't so big it would get in the way, but it was tastefully sized for a classic look.

"Oh, Colin, it's lovely," she cooed, turning the box to see the ring from different angles. "Circle cut, silver setting. It will suit Rhea perfectly. She'll love it."

"I hope so," he said, wringing his hands anxiously. "I've got to ask first. What if she says no?"

"Oh, don't be absurd," she tutted. "Why in the name of Merlin would she say no?"

"Well…there are reasons."

Ginny rolled her eyes and said, "Tea?"

"Please."

She knew it was just Colin's nerves talking. His parents adored Rhea, as it was impossible not to do, and Rhea's family were quite fond of Colin. They'd become fixtures in each other's lives, and it didn't make much sense to think Rhea would see it any differently.

"How are you going to ask?" she said, putting the kettle on and preparing cups.

Ginny saw Colin rub the back of his neck anxiously in the mirror, and he said, "I was thinking of taking her to dinner somewhere, but I don't know how to do it. You know, nowhere too posh, but you wouldn't want the Leaky Cauldron. And not too crowded, but you don't want a handful of people in a small place looking at you when it happens."

"I see your point," Ginny said, frowning as she turned to face him. He put the ring away and she crossed her arms. "You know, you could do a picnic lunch. Weather's getting good enough, and there's some lovely bits of countryside, if we put our heads together, maybe asked Luna or Kitty or Ryana, I'm sure we could come up with a place."

"Let's keep it quiet," he said earnestly. "Just between us. I don't want…to have too many people know, before she does, you understand. I decided to tell you and not Luna because you're her cousin, and because I thought you might be a bit more…"

"Helpful," Ginny prompted, and Colin hummed his agreement.

She poured their tea, and they spent almost an hour running through a list of places they could consider as viable picnicking locations. Ginny went through nearly everything she could think of, and then she remembered a rather secluded little copse that was a short walk from Rhea's neighborhood.

"It's a nice place," Ginny said, leaning her head back thoughtfully. "I would say there's probably…probably wildflowers in bloom around this time. She always liked it. And she'd be pleased to be proposed to in a place like that, I think. Quiet beauty."

"Just like Rhea," he said, grinning.

Ginny was pleased Colin was thinking about Rhea in such a way, and she would be so pleased to officially welcome him into the family, once the wedding took place. The trouble would be not letting it slip when she was talking to others, particularly when she went with Ryana for tea at Catherine's place. Ginny couldn't help thinking it would be a wonderful way to keep conversation neutral and to keep from asking questions about why Harry and Catherine had been so cut off from the rest of the world.

But if Colin didn't want her telling anyone, she'd have to respect it, difficult though it was.

"When are you thinking?" she asked, sitting forward on her chair so she could feel the edge of it digging lightly into her thighs. "Only, I'm going to see Kitty soon, and I'd like to tell her, if you're asking before I go."

"Oh, I really hadn't thought," he said, going slightly pale, and then going bright red. "Ginny, you've got to help me pick. I couldn't possibly. I haven't…well, Ginny, I haven't got a clue. What if I ask at the wrong time?"

Ginny sighed and calmed him down before helping him think about his timing, telling him they'd just have to think about her upcoming commitments together and see if they couldn't find a suitable time to use for his purposes, the picnic. Once they'd picked out a date and time, Ginny decided she might as well go the whole way with the thing, and helped him plan what would be in the picnic itself, from sandwiches to sides, salads fruits, biscuits. She helped him find a thermos in his cupboard big enough for tea, and she did a sneaky Undetectable Extension Charm, to give him more than he'd think. One couldn't run out of tea on a picnic, especially when one was proposing.

"Did Blaise do a good job?" Colin asked, rubbing his ear, once they'd sorted out all the details. "With the proposal, I mean."

"Well, I said yes, didn't I?"

"There's nothing you wish he'd have done differently?"

Ginny frowned, wondering if she would have rather had it done out in nature somewhere, in some beautiful corner of the earth. But she shook her head, thinking if it had been done any other way, it wouldn't have suited the way Blaise would want things done, and that was no way to start a married life.

"Biscuits?" she asked.

"Yes, please."

/-/

Natalie walked with Jason to Professor Lupin's classroom, where the sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts students were gathering for their exam. They were meeting the others there, and she could tell he was nervous about something.

"What's Caro got today?" she asked gently.

"Transfiguration," he said, his voice tight. "Written in the morning, practical in the afternoon."

"She'll be fine," Natalie said, but he didn't answer.

He wasn't worried about Caroline's grades. They'd always been exemplary, and she – like Catherine – never opened a book. The real concern was how her magical core would manage the heavy schedule of O.W.L.s, when she wouldn't be able to resist showing off for the examiners. Theoretically, the decision was she would be fully recovered from last years' ordeal, enough so her magical core would not be exhausted without another moment of extreme stress.

But it was only a theory.

Professor Lupin greeted them at the door, his eyes grazing over Jason's anxious face, and she knew their teacher understood what Jason's fears really were. Jason was not a nervous test taker, and he was adequate at the subject, certainly good enough to pass the year.

"Stay after, would you, Jason?" he said kindly.

Jason nodded, and she knew Professor Lupin was going to try to talk down her friend, find a way to calm him. She only wished she could be more helpful.

/-/

Fabian knew the look of anxiety and mild illness in Colin's face as the poor boy cracked his knuckles under Fabian's stern, fatherly gaze.

Colin was asking permission for Rhea's hand. Or at least, he was trying to ask, but he struggled to get any words out, so strong was his anxiety.

Fabian had no issue with the idea of his beautiful daughter marrying Colin Creevey. He was a polite, respectful boy, who clearly thought the world of Rhea. He'd make a good father, if they had children, and his family was supportive and loving and kind.

But Colin couldn't seem to spit out words, any words, about why he'd asked to meet with Fabian, or why he was rocking back and forth.

Finally, Fabian lost his patience with waiting for the poor boy to speak and he said, "Colin, I know why you're here." Colin's eyes widened fearfully, which was a surprisingly good feeling. Fabian laughed, and said, "There's no need for you to be so anxious. Rhea loves you. Our whole family already considers you part of the family. I have great respect for your parents. I know you'll bend over backwards to make her happy, Colin. I can't imagine I'd ever make you jump hoops to marry Rhea. When she says yes, she's all yours."

"If she says yes," Colin groaned weakly.

Fabian just clapped the boy's shoulder bracingly. He knew, from his own terror of proposing to Dorcas, some things needed to be suffered without comfort.

/-/

Padma sat in the hall as Catherine greeted Ryana and Ginny warmly at the door. The wine was mixed. Lunch was prepared. Harry was away at training. It was finally time to take things forward to the next steps. She could hardly contain her excitement as Catherine led her two friends to the kitchen and offered them a glass of wine, which each accepted.

Padma licked her lips and held her breath as the wine was poured, and she wished she could hear the drinking of the wine. But she simply had to wait, and know Catherine was ready for this.

/-/

Wednesday morning, Aeson sat in the Great Hall with the other OWL students, packed out with all the fifth years to take their Defense Against the Dark Arts written, with the practical to come after lunch. Aeson was confident on the practical, but he knew he'd never top the year in Defense. Not only was Caroline's magical core absurdly strong, but Defense was her best subject, and her mind was almost encyclopedic with things she'd heard, just like her siblings. And with a subject she cared about….

He licked his lips and shook his hands out, attempting to push away the idea she was bound to beat him. It wouldn't do any good, although it was true. Instead, he ran through creatures and their types in his mind. Creatures had always been his weak point in this subject, and third year had been utter torture. He knew a fair bit about werewolves just from keeping up with Professor Lupin and Madam Potter's work in pushing forward werewolf welfare over the years, a cause his father gave heavily to. But kelpies? He didn't know kelpies from kelp.

"It is time," the examiner said from the front of the hall, checking a pocket watch. "Lift your quills." Every person in the hall readied one arm, and a few leaned forward. "Begin."

At the final word, the blank parchment before them suddenly had words, and Aeson let his eyes scan the first page, pleased that this, at least, was about spells. Questions would grow more difficult as the exam went, in theory. Unless a person taking an exam had a, say, weak spot.

He quickly dispatched of the questions on basic theory of jinxes, hexes, and curses, and turned to the second page. Aeson's stomach quickly dropped as he saw a string of questions about general creature types and classifications, and he glanced up at the front of the room, where Caroline sat. He felt his stomach churn as he saw her breezing through what was presumably the second page, her quill scribbling along quickly, lazily, and onto the third page. He took a deep breath, forced his gaze down to his parchment again, and tried to focus on his own exam. It did no good to compare his pace with hers, knowing she found the whole notion of exams to be a bit of a lark.

Aeson squeezed his eyes shut, focusing in on the beating of his own heart for something to ground him. He opened them again, allowing the fuzziness in his vision to dissipate before readying his quill again and attempting to remember the classification of a grindylow. As if such things really mattered, he thought bitterly. What duelist ever needed to know what sort of magic one was meant to use against water creatures?

Water creature, he thought with a relieved sigh, scribbling down the Latin name and a random danger level. Good enough.

/-/

Rose felt mildly ill as she waited for her name to be called, and she watched students of other years and houses mill about, up and down the stairway. Those without exams were outside, taking advantage of the lovely weather, and those with exams were cooped up wherever the exam took place. She would be the last called, naturally, which was the worst part about her name coming at the end. She was surprised to hear someone say her name, softly, as she waited, anxiously.

Rose turned to see Aeson's brother, Brontes, watching her with his usual, mild expression. She swallowed, thinking it was unfair how purebloods all seemed to have incredibly well-sculpted features.

"Defense?" he asked, nodding his head toward the Great Hall.

"Yes," she said, smiling weakly.

"You'll be fine," he said, his eyes running across her face. "I just finished with my uncle's exam. Miss Zeller, you look unwell."

"I'll be pleased to pass," she admitted, and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

He took a step closer, and she found she was holding her breath as she looked up at his dark eyes.

"I've seen you at the Dueling Club, Miss Zeller," he said, and she decided not to bother correcting him, now. "You'll be fine."

Rose tried to think of something to say, but her name was called, and she only spared him a small glance before going into the Great Hall for her exam.

The examiner was a kindly woman, and she did her best to put Rose at ease, no doubt seeing a great number of anxious students. Rumor had it, someone fainted from anxiety during the Transfiguration practicals the year before.

"Let's start simple," the woman said, gesturing for Rose to take out her wand, which she did. "Show me a Shield Charm, and direct it at the wall, to be safe."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose said, nodding. She took a deep breath, turned to the wall in question, and said, " _Protego!_ "

The shield was sturdy, visible, and she knew it would withhold most spells, certainly spells done by student level. She couldn't hold back any spell Caroline did with conviction, but that was too much to ask of most Shield Charms.

"Excellent," the examiner said, using her wand to measure shield strength. Then she nodded, and Rose lowered the shield, licking her lips and waiting for more instructions. "Let me see…the dummy, disarm it."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose said, raising her wand to the dummy in question, and she raised her wand. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

The wand of the dummy soared into her waiting hand, and Rose tried not to pay too much attention as the examiner took notes, rather rapidly. Rose tried to relax her hands, knowing the best spellwork was performed by a relaxed wand arm. Instead, she focused on the kindness in the eyes of Brontes Lestrange as he told her she would be fine, and she sighed.

"Now," the examiner said, "let's try something a bit more involved."

/-/

James rubbed his eyes as he said goodbye to his last Gryffindor second year student. He organized his notes, feeling a soreness in his back. He didn't know how his friends had done it all these years, particularly Sirius. Exam season, as it happened, was not only agony for the students, but for the professors, as well. He found his back ached constantly, and he hadn't slept properly since the week prior.

He'd thought of having drinks with Harry when it was over, but he consulted his calendar, and realized Harry would be pretty tied up with work. Maybe he'd catch a match, if he could talk Sirius into coming along. Maybe they'd sit with Catherine in the box, tease her about when they were getting grandchildren. He'd not had much of an opportunity for that, yet.

He half-hoped, with how long those two had been…physical, it would be a whole Quidditch team from just one marriage.

Perhaps he would invite Sirius and Remus and Severus for drinks in his quarters. But then, he mused, he had the Hufflepuff first years' in the morning, and he couldn't imagine dealing with them on a hangover. Instead, he pressed his thumbs into his temples, massaging his forehead. He'd have to deal with his massive stack of grading later, although he wanted to get it out of the way, if he wasn't having drinks.

James checked his watch and hummed to himself, thinking perhaps he could sneak home, if he wasn't getting any work done tonight. He missed his wife, and now the thought occurred to him, he'd not sleep until he'd seen her. His pulse was already rising, imagining how he would catch her by surprise, shower her with a flurry of kisses as he unclasped her robes….

He shivered, glancing at his watch again. He quickly gathered up his papers wanting to get them to his quarters as quickly as possible so he could be with Lily as soon as magic could allow him. James thought of dropping by Sirius's to tell him he wouldn't be around, but he supposed Sirius would guess. He'd spent many, many years away from London, away from Cara. He hurried to his quarters with a skip in his step.

/-/

It hadn't taken much, Padma mused, watching the scene before her. Ryana, as Padma had long suspected, was already in love with Catherine, and the Bliss and invitation was only a lifting of the shackles long keeping Ryana from expressing her desires. Ginny took more coaxing, but the pleasure of following Catherine's suggestions had become too much for her, and both girls were now eagerly pleasuring Catherine's body, attempting to earn the other halves of their doses.

Harry coming home only lightly disappointed Padma, who was lounging, nude, on the sofa. He looked around at the scene, startled, something in his eyes Padma did not like.

"Come here, pet," she said, crooking her finger. Harry did as told, and knelt beside her, accepting his dose of Bliss without argument. She gave him a moment for the rush to hit him before she directed his lips to her body, and she began giving him instructions to make the new situation more…palatable to him. Things were finally moving at a pace Padma approved of, and Harry would not be permitted to slow this wonderful progress.

 **A/N: So, Colin is preparing to propose, exams go on once again, and Padma moves to the next stage of her plans, drawing in more victims.**

 **Review Prompt: Who would be a better father-in-law, James or Sirius or Fabian? I lean toward Fabian because he's a bit more…normal.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How mature are these people as compared to our world? (Guest)**

 **A: That's a difficult one to answer. I think there's a lot of immaturity, but I don't think it's as much because they're in the wizarding world as because after a period of great suffering and maturing too quickly (the Marauders and their contemporaries, or in our world the WW2 generation), there's often a period of laissez-faire parenting that leads to immaturity, selfishness, and poor decisions (Harry and Kitty's generation, or in our world the Baby Boomers). It's more a human nature thing than a wizarding or Muggle thing.**

 **Q: Will Harry at least feel some level of recognition that giving into her on this was really wrong? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Oh, absolutely. In much the same way that Sirius will blame himself, Harry will blame himself. Again, it's not as simple as Harry being responsible, but his desperation not to deny her anything has aided Padma's plans perfectly….to a point. We're getting close now!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	131. Programming

**A/N: So, I can't say for sure how many bonuses you'll earn, but I can already promise it will blow our last record out of the water. So well done you guys! Here's Bonus 7.**

 **-C**

At first, Ginny felt mildly sick with what she'd done, but perhaps it was leftover of the wine, or whatever it was she'd been given once she…earned it. Now, Ginny found herself wondering when she would be able to slip away to visit again, and jealous of Ryana, who had no one who would argue if she didn't go home. Ryana was staying at the Potters'.

Ginny ignored her mother, leaving the house, pacing the garden several times before deciding she had to find out if this was something in her she hadn't known before, or whether the whole night had been some kind of aberration.

She was at the Potters' home, and she knocked sharply, waiting, feeling her pulse race and her mouth go dry as she wondered whether it was too late to go home and forget she'd come by.

Parvati Patil surprised her by opening the door, smiling weakly. Ginny was about to enter, when Parvati held out a small capsule, and Ginny realized this was a condition of entrance. She stood, wondering whether she should, when she heard the delicious sound of a woman moaning and Ginny found herself opening her mouth, presenting her tongue to Parvati, who placed the pill on it. Ginny swallowed, and in several moments her whole body felt lighter, brighter, wonderful. Even the sounds inside the house were better, and Ginny allowed Parvati to take her by the hand and lead her in. She didn't notice if the door was closing behind her.

It didn't matter.

Ginny was slightly disappointed Catherine was nowhere to be seen, but merely a nude Ryana, knelling by the sofa and eagerly lapping away between Padma Patil's open thighs.

"Hello, pet," Padma sighed, her fingers caressing Ryana's hair as encouragement. "Ryana here is earning the rest of her dose. Would you like to earn yours?"

Ginny licked her lips. The idea sounded wonderful, perhaps the best thing ever suggested, but she hesitated. Something wasn't quite right about this. Something, someone was missing. Perhaps the whole scenario was wrong. She couldn't be sure. Padma made a small gesture with her free hand, and Parvati came up behind Ginny, unclasping Ginny's robes with her graceful hands.

"That's better, pet, isn't it?" Padma sighed, as Ryana began to touch herself. "It's very hot in here, isn't it? Much better to cool off."

And Ginny realized Padma was right. It felt so good, that she helped Parvati to remove the robes, shrugging them off and enjoying the coolness of air hitting her skin.

"Answer me, pet. Isn't it better?"

"Yes," Ginny sighed, closing her eyes, allowing Padma's words to pour over her ears as Parvati's hands caressed through Ginny's dress.

"Of course it is. I know what you'll like, pet. You'd like to feel this doubled, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Ginny moaned as Parvati's fingers bunched up the dress at the hem, pulling it slowly upward. Ginny made no protest as each bit of her skin was cooling, bit by bit. She only wished it would move faster.

"I can do that for you. You remember. The second half of the dose. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"You want to earn it, don't you?"

"Yes."

Parvati was pulling the dress over Ginny's head, and Ginny made no complaint, her hands already moving to remove her bra as Parvati's hands moved to her panties. As soon as Ginny's body was fully nude, completely uncovered, she heard Padma say softly, "Ryana, dear, let's remind Ginny just how lovely Bliss feels, shall we? Do this while she earns her dose, and you'll be greatly rewarded.

Ginny opened her eyes as Ryana moaned turning her attentions to Ginny as Padma crooked a finger. Without hesitation, Ginny fell to her knees in front of Padma, burying herself between Padma's thighs and eagerly lapping at the juices Ryana had been told to abandon. The taste, the smell, the feel of Padma was wondrous, just as Ginny's memory of tasting Catherine had been, and she was spurred on by Ryana's tongue between her thighs, causing a delicious ache, a slow burn building. Ginny felt desperation to earn the rest of her dose, to feel the fullness of this euphoria. The warmth of Padma petting her hair, whispering words of encouragement, and truths as Ginny worked, it melted over Ginny, teasing at something in the back of her mind as she focused her conscious mind on giving Padma as much pleasure as she possibly could with her mouth.

Because good girls were grateful, Ginny thought vaguely as she lapped. Good girls had active tongues, and showed appreciation for their pleasure. Ryana was obviously a good girl, from the agonizing pleasure Ginny felt buzzing and building inside of her, and she wanted to be a good girl, too. A very, very good girl, who belonged to Catherine. She and Ryana belonged to Catherine, who belonged to Padma. She moaned into Padma's pussy as she felt the waves of her climax overcome her, and she felt an extra twinge of pleasure as Padma petted her hair lovingly.

"That's a very good girl, Ginny," Padma whimpered. "Parvati, get their full doses ready. They've both earned a treat."

Ginny came again.

/-/

Jason sat his Friday morning exam with a great deal of nerves. He knew his sisters didn't think much of Muggle Studies, but it was terribly important to him, perhaps because of their dismissiveness, to get it right. This was something he could shine in, although he had a bit of a slow start, compared with many of his classmates, something where he could top it and not need worry of falling short of the impossible standards of his sisters.

He held his breath as Professor Burbage stared at her watch, waiting, until she raised a finger and said, "Begin."

Jason put his name at the top of his exam, letting his eyes scan the page. Music, politics, sport, visual arts. He was secretly grateful for his father's fascination with Muggle culture. Quiet though it had been, Jason had been exposed to Muggle culture in small doses all his life.

/-/

Had Damon not insisted on taking everything Caroline took, he thought – not bitterly – he would have had a Friday off on the exam schedule. As it was, he was sitting in his Ancient Runes OWL, staring the reality of his future in the subject in the face. Being quite hopeless at the subject, he would, no doubt, have to drop it at the NEWT level. Caroline, being brilliant at everything she touched, would no doubt go on to top the NEWT records for it.

Seeing as Catherine hadn't studied Runes, it was more than a possibility.

As it was, Damon didn't know what half the runes he was meant to be translating meant, and he picked through the simple bits for something to do. He would finish, if finish was the right word, well before time was called, but he had already resolved to spend his extra time fantasizing about how he might spend the afternoon with his girlfriend. She'd spent the night before in his bed, and he couldn't get it out of his mind.

Come that, it wasn't helping his translation, either, the memory of her skin beneath his fingertips plaguing his thoughts. But Damon didn't really mind.

/-/

For Ourania Prewett, exam weekend was over far too quickly. Monday morning of the second week of OWLS, as it happened, was the beginning of their long, laborious day of Potions. The written portion of the exam. It was the one thing Caroline was not going to top, because her magical core couldn't give her a boost in the practical the way it could with every other course. Ironically, Aeson wouldn't top it, either.

Rose looked more comfortable than she had all the previous week as the fifth years filed into the Great Hall, taking empty seats. Rose sat in front of Ourania, taking out her quills for approval. The examiner was making the rounds to check everyone's quills, and Rose turned around.

"Good luck," she said with a bright smile.

"This will be alright," Ourania lied. "It's this afternoon I'm dreading. I heard six people failed last year."

"Professor Snape has prepared us," Rose said, completely unmoved by the rumor, which was probably true. "Caroline's not nervous, and she's…well, not grand at Potions."

Caroline was rather poor at Potions, compared with her usual standard of work. But it was beside the point, as far as Ourania was concerned.

"Caro doesn't know the meaning of nervous," she said with a snort. "I doubt very much she's ever experienced the sensation of it. Hey, at lunch, can you review stirring patterns with me? She's a useless study partner for it."

Rose said she would as the examiner came up their row, checking each set of quills meticulously. Rose smiled weakly and turned around, not wanting to be chattering when it was their turn. Ourania wouldn't blame her, if she could focus on anything but her own stomach churning.

/-/

Severus had availed himself of the Monday morning off to prepare for the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth year students, who would be brewing for him after lunch. Because he was prepared, he relaxed as he took his lunch, enjoying the paleness of James Potter.

"Hufflepuffs this morning?" he asked smoothly as he passed the butter down to Sirius.

"He had the first years," Sirius said, not bothering to hide his grin. "Mind you, I'm in no state to talk. I've got the second years this afternoon. He's got an afternoon off, bless. You know, James, you should go spend it with Lily. Didn't she say she was going to be working through equations at home?"

"Yeah," James Potter said, perking up and grinning. "I'll surprise her, maybe give her a hand."

"Unless you've suddenly contracted lycanthropy, that would be impossible," Severus said smoothly. "Remus has already availed himself of his day off to aid her in her research, as you both should recall. He mentioned it at breakfast."

Lily was still searching, as yet in vain, for a full cure to lycanthropy, to wipe the condition off the face of the earth, entirely. Progress was slow, and her former partner in Belby had taken up the potion for vampires with much more vigor, preferring to focus on immediate needs as opposed to long-term dreams. Severus and Catherine had both informed Lily if she needed a hand in the brewing, they were at her disposal, although he expected Catherine would get the work. After all, she had much more disposable time, not having courses to teach and essays to mark.

Severus was too proud of her to feel jealousy.

"Good point," Potter sighed, disappointed. "Sirius, I heard the examiners talking about Caro this morning. I thought the bloke who did her Defense and Transfiguration exams was going to wet himself with excitement, talking about how brilliant she is."

Severus snorted, but Sirius and Potter began talking excitedly about Caroline as though she was the greatest thing ever to happen to the wizarding world. No matter how powerful Caroline was, no matter her accomplishments, Severus would always prefer working with her sister. Catherine had a grace and refinement, even in her magic and brewing, which Caroline could not possess.

Sirius might manage to delude himself he had no favorites, but Severus made no such sweeping lies. He absolutely had favorites, and his favorite Black child, although she was now a Potter, would always be Catherine.

"Lunch is nearly over," he said smoothly. "I expect you have places you need to be."

/-/

Sixth year students had their Arithmancy exams after lunch on the second Monday of exams, and Kevin Whitby picked nervously at his quill's feathers. He knew he had a great deal of aptitude for the subject, but it didn't make his anxiety dissipate as Professor Vector told them to begin. He desperately didn't want to mess up his chance to keep on in the NEWT level.

/-/

To Ryana, the new reality of her existence was like living in a dream world. To have a near-constant state of pleasure, to sleep at the feet of Catherine, to touch and pleasure Catherine whenever Padma saw fit…. It was like floating through utopia. She saw relatively little of Harry while in the Potter house, but this did not trouble Ryana.

Nothing troubled Ryana.

She disliked when Catherine was away, working. She could keep whatever hours she liked, but Catherine still preferred not to draw attention to her home life. This was sensible, Ryana thought as she watched Harry masturbate for Padma through heavily lidded eyes. He was going out to see friends later, and Ryana had heard something about reinforcement, before he went. Harry offered up no resistance, no hesitation.

Like a good boy, Ryana thought, smiling to herself as she touched her skin, feeling it tingle and warm at her touch. She wished it were Catherine touching her, but she felt the hands of Parvati instead, which was as close as she could get to as glorious as Catherine.

"Good boy," Padma sighed, kissing Harry's forehead as he tried to catch his breath. "I would give you more Bliss now, but best if we wait until you get home. The wait will make it all the better."

Ryana moaned.

/-/

Tuesday morning, sixth years had their Care of Magical Creatures exam, and Orla Quirke of Ravenclaw felt uneasy. The year before, difficult as her OWL had been, she'd at least known the examiners would not have her do anything unreasonable or unsafe. And next year, if she lived that long, the NEWT examiners would do the same.

Professor Hagrid wasn't exactly the same in that regard. She learned a lot in the course, and it was terribly interesting, but Orla had never gone a single lesson of Care of Magical Creatures without fearing for her life and limb. And exams were about three times worse than classes.

"There, now," he said brightly to the handful of sixth year students. "Simple exam fer yeh, today. Part o' yer grade is, as yeh know, progress on yer project. All o' yeh have been good on tha', so yeh should be passin'."

He proceeded to explain that they were going to be demonstrating care for two difficult creatures, for the whole of the afternoon. Each was assigned a hippogriff and a thestral to care for, although the thestral bit was tricky, as only two of the students could even see them. The thestrals were harnessed to the fences, so at least the harnesses were visible. Orla tried not to be too anxious about her grade and her safety as she watched the bit of raw meat she was holding out disappear in bite-sized chunks.

She was surprised when she felt something velvety and smooth nuzzling her hand, perhaps as thanks for the food. She took deep breaths and tried to enjoy it. It was better than fainting.

/-/

Sandra Rosier spent her Tuesday afternoon trying not to cry. Potions exams were always stressful, perhaps especially stressful when it was Professor Snape and not some stranger overseeing her work. It was unfair, she thought as she stirred, she had Jason Black in her class. He might not be a Potions genius, like his elder sister, but he was certainly getting special treatment for Professor Snape being a friend of the family.

/-/

Persephone Wood spent her Tuesday afternoon trying not to cry. She thought it might have been a mistake to try taking Care of Magical Creatures, but she hadn't been able to resist the draw of an open-air class, especially after how pleasant it was to take Herbology after being cooped up in the dungeons.

What she hadn't figured was most of the plants in Herbology – while some did try to eat her – didn't have teeth, and the greenhouses kept out the elements. The creatures she had to work within Care of Magical Creatures almost always had teeth and wanted to eat her, and she didn't have a cloak because they'd been warned not to bring anything shiny to their practical.

Probably to keep nifflers from stealing their things, as nifflers were difficult enough to deal with, without shininess in the vicinity. Persephone was pleased, of course, she was free of any niffler troubles for following the rules. Jessica Shacklebolt, on the other hand, had forgotten to take out her hair clips before going down to the exam.

Now, Jessica was almost certainly lamenting not reading the notice board more carefully.

/-/

"Just feels like everyone's acting weird," Rhea said, stabbing her fork at her flan as she and Luna looked around the quiet restaurant. Luna hummed.

She couldn't account for the strange behavior of Ginny, and she hardly saw Ryana and Catherine, anyway. But she had a feeling she knew why Colin was behaving strangely. When he told her he needed to reschedule their plans for lunch the other day, she had a strong feeling he'd gone to see Rhea's father, which could really only mean one thing.

"I wouldn't worry," she said with a smile, knowing it wouldn't keep Rhea from worrying. There were few things Rhea did better. "How're things on the continent?"

"Oh, fine," Rhea said, frowning as she slipped her fork into the flan, pulling a bite-sized bit away from the whole of the custard treat. "My record isn't as quality as I'd like, but some of those Durmstrang graduates are brutal. I suggested I take a break from European dueling, learn the Asian methods, spend some time in Japan, but Colin doesn't seem as supportive as I'd like. I ask him and he goes all pale and splutters about, if that's what I want. You know."

"I do," Luna said, nodding.

Yes, Colin was almost certainly going to propose.

 **A/N: So, Padma sinks her claws deeper, exams rage onward, and we're just a bit closer to the big showdown.**

 **Review Prompt: What do you suppose Sirius's favorite kind of pizza would be? (Not my best, I know. Sometimes it's harder than others to come up with these things)**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Could Harry overdose from Bliss? (Pebbles 7092)**

 **A: Good question. In theory, you can overdose on anything, even water, but this is a relatively harmless drug in that respect. It could do some pretty screwy things with his sense of scope and reality, should he be given too much too often, but it would have to be an awful lot and frequently. It wouldn't kill him directly.**

 **Q: I find myself wondering if anyone will blame Kitty or take Harry's side? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: A lot of the questions I've been getting focus on blame, which is understandable. Remember that both Harry's family and Catherine's family care for both children as part of their own family's (I know they're not children anymore, but still). Same goes for other adults in their lives. And the thing about these adults, say Snape, for example, is they are fully aware of the power Catherine has over Harry, how easily she can persuade him. They wouldn't be surprised, and apart from perhaps a very brief initial emotional response, they're all big enough and wise enough not to blame either of them. There won't be any taking sides from the adults in their lives.**

 **Q: Are we going to see Adrasteia again? (Emmy)**

 **A: We will definitely see Adra again, but she's not a primary character, not even really a secondary one. But yes, we'll get updates.**

 **Q: How is this not bleeding into [Harry's] real life? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: It's not uncommon with people who are being abused, or who are abusing drugs or alcohol, for the people in their lives not to notice until it's too late. Or with people who eventually commit suicide or elaborate mass murder-suicides (think school shootings). We always get the "someone should have seen" thing. It's often not so simple, especially for those closest, those who love them. It's far too easy, especially with things changing slowly, over time, to make excuses. I've tried to show this, in the way others assume things about the couple. Padma's moved slowly until now, and Sirius thought the changes in Catherine were her maturing and mellowing. Lily and James and others assumed the reclusiveness to be the couple being newlyweds and taking advantage of time alone as much as possible. Even Severus, who had the connection to Catherine, couldn't determine what was happening. He assumed sexual relations were with Harry, and when he sensed things that made him think drugs, when her family couldn't find any clear signs of something other than alcohol and cigarettes in her room and dorm, they decided it was probably just increased usage of things she was already using. It's too easy to convince ourselves there's nothing wrong, especially when we might feel responsible for something that would be wrong.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	132. The Weight of a Promise

**A/N: Here's Bonus 8! Keep your questions coming, too. I'm totally loving it.**

 **-C**

Exams were nearly over, and Jason was surprised at how exhausted all his classmates appeared. However, it was not nearly as exhausted as Uncle James looked when the sixth-year Transfiguration students filed in, finding seats, preparing themselves for their tests.

"Good morning," Uncle James said through a yawn, which elicited a few giggles. "Happy Thursday. Almost there, eh? You lucky lot, if you don't have Charms, you're done, aren't you?"

They nodded. Most students continued Charms, if their OWLs were high enough, but not everyone continued Transfiguration. It was a much more difficult course to pass the OWL for.

"Right," he said, flicking his wand, sending a block of wood to each desk. "You all have the usual time frame. I'm going to conjure your cubicles for privacy as soon as I've started your time. The blocks are identical. I know because I copied them myself."

He winked, and earned a few more giggles, but Jason just smiled mildly. While he appreciated Professor McGonagall, it was nice to have Uncle James as a teacher. He had a way of relieving some of the anxiety surrounding the subject.

"You are going to use your personal project, and any Transfiguration knowledge you have learned these six years, and you are going to make me something…interesting. For example. None of you is doing a project on the nature of naturally-occurring molecules when transformed into synthetic materials, because I've only got a few Muggle Studies gurus in this class, but if one of you were to do that…"

He pulled out an elaborate plastic sculpture, made of different sort of plastics almost melting and blending together.

"You might Transfigure, very carefully, something like this. Use your scratch paper to plan your method. You'll leave both the end result and the parchment at the desk to show me your understanding of your work. Questions? No, well, begin."

He flicked his wand again, and the opaque cubicles popped up around the desks, separating out Jason from Cora, blocking the view of Jason's workspace from anyone around him. He looked at the simple block of wood, like a piece of a longer beam, square and smooth, but soft like well-sanded wood. Jason supposed that if he dug in his thumbnail, he could leave a little crescent imprint on the surface. Copied or not, this was wood.

Jason's project did have to do with Muggles, oddly enough, but not Muggle materials. Instead, it was on the use of Transfigured materials in Muggle culture, throughout history. He was using his father's texts to track the uses of certain types of Transfiguration by wizards living in the Muggle world, and how the Squib community today used pre-Transfigured materials in their daily lives, all the time. Theoretically, he could transfigure this block of wood into anything useful in the Muggle world, anything that could be seen in a house by a Muggle and not questioned. But what would Uncle James find…interesting?

His lip twitched as he thought of his father's motorbike, thought of how a well-planned combination of charms and enchantments had made it a fine mix of Muggle and magical, but no Muggle would ever know the difference, if they didn't see it flying. Jason picked up his quill and began to consider the dimensions of the block, to think of what he could realistically make with this particular block. He'd get more points, he knew, if he stuck strictly to Transfiguration, but he could do something more interesting if he threw in a few Charms. Jason weighed his options, and decided to go for doing it purely with Transfiguration. He had a few hours, and in a few hours, he could almost certainly think of a new spell, or a change of an old spell, that would do the trick without a Charm.

Uncle James paced through the room, his eyes scanning over and across and around the cubicles, and Jason didn't look up as he began to draw out the dimensions he would need for his project. There was the matter of making it larger in the process of the first spell, rather than using an Engorgement Charm. He supposed a modified Switching Spell could do the trick.

Jason did glance up at Uncle James after he'd passed and was walking away, just to be sure. He could see a small upturn at the corner of Uncle James's lips, so he had a feeling he was on the right track.

Jason then began to think about how to take it from the solid metal lump of the appropriate proportions into the shape he wanted, without a Charm. Perhaps if he did a partial Transfiguration, taking the lump in sections and using partial work to shape and mold the metal. He'd seen it done for sculpture, and it was done – dangerously – in work with animal Transfiguration. He thought he'd seen an example of it when he went to a concert with Jimmy and Cora, with that bizarrely shaped tuba…. If it was a tuba.

Yes, Jason thought the partial Transfiguration was the appropriate method for shaping, so then it was a matter of making the part not only the appropriate shape, size and material, but to have it somehow active without other connected parts. With Charms, a simple matter, but in Transfiguration, Jason would have to think outside the box. He blinked, counting out his sheets of parchment, knowing there was far more there than he needed. Perhaps it was bending the rules, but he knew Uncle James hadn't mentioned he couldn't Transfigure the parchment. He simply said the spare parchment and the block's final form would be marked together. He didn't mention what form he expected the parchment to be in.

A simple matter, Jason thought, adding it to the end of his planning, to do a substance Transfiguration, creating steam and beads of oil from bits of parchment. Nothing easier.

/-/

Thursday morning, Damon was almost relieved to take his History of Magic OWL. Sure, Caroline writing at her unnaturally rapid pace on his left was unnerving, but he never walked away from Professor Black's class thinking anything but how much he'd learned. Unlike so many other courses, History of Magic was something Damon could do.

/-/

"Done," Ourania sighed, leading Damon out, into the sunshine. "Can you believe it? We're done with the OWLs."

"Two more years," Caroline said lazily, holding out her hand for Damon to take, which he did quickly, kissing it before leading them away. "Thank Merlin we can focus on the things that matter, cutting out the rubbish."

Ourania didn't even care. She was just so pleased she could give her brain a rest for months and months, it hardly mattered what she passed or what she failed, what she'd continue or what she'd drop.

Care of Magical Creatures, she thought, smiling. She'd have to continue that, and History of Magic. Probably ought to continue Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But she wasn't going to think about it. She was going to focus in on having some fun. She asked when the party was starting, and she deflated when Caroline reminded her OWL and NEWT students partied together. NEWTs weren't done until the following day, but Caroline grinned wickedly.

"Don't worry, though," she said with a knowing grin. "Jason said he had drinks waiting for us tonight. Sixth years are done, after all."

Well, that was something worth celebrating.

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Severus smirked as he strolled up to the Head Table, through the décor of silver and emerald, which Sirius was looking at with a sour expression. Gryffindor may have won the Quidditch Cup, and Severus couldn't deny Caroline's superiority helped greatly in the matter, but Slytherin had won the House Cup.

"We had an excellent group of seventh years," Severus said, holding out his hand for the forfeit from their bet, which Sirius handed over with a grumble. "It will be a great shame, truly, to lose Astoria Greengrass, but I suppose these things happen. Do you think your son will be Head Boy?"

"It's possible," Sirius said, shrugging. "He'd not be a poor choice. Plenty of good options in his year, though. They're so well-behaved."

"Nothing like the year behind them," Remus said cheekily as he stabbed at his steak, watching the students as they gathered their food and began to chatter. "Can you imagine, if Caro somehow became Head Girl?"

"No, I'll do you one worse," Sirius said, grinning. "Caro Head Girl with Aeson Head Boy. It would be like Lily and James, but so much worse."

Severus said nothing. He didn't want to begin to imagine what that might be like, but he also had a nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him there were not many options in that year. He supposed he could put forward Miss Barbary, and Miss Zeller of Hufflepuff was a possibility, but the Head Boy could almost only be Aeson Lestrange. And what if Caroline took the other role?

/-/

Colin couldn't feel his fingers as he watched Rhea drink her tea. If this went well, the rest of his life was full of beautiful, wonderful possibilities. He was almost afraid to imagine, but his mind was running away with him. He would follow her anywhere, all over the world. He'd submit himself for doing reporting on international dueling competitions so that he could simply be wherever she was and still manage to do his job. Whenever she thought it was the right time for her career, they would have children, and he would raise them, following her while they worked.

"What?" she said, smiling at him, curiously. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," he said happily. "No, you look beautiful. You look…perfect. Erm, I was just thinking about…something I wanted to ask you. But…it could spoil it, and I could wait if you'd rather."

"No, go ahead," she said, still puzzled. "I'm not worried about our picnic."

He licked his lips and nodded, and he took a deep breath.

"I've been thinking about what you said," he said softly. "About Japan. And I…I told you I'd think about it, and I have. But while I'm thinking about Japan, I want you to think about something else, and I think it's only fair that I give you my answer when you give me yours."

"What's that, then?"

Rhea raised her eyebrows, and Colin pulled the box out of his pocket, feeling mildly nauseous as he passed the box to her, watching her face carefully as she gave him a stunned look. He held his breath as she opened the box, widening her eyes as she looked at the ring. He prayed she'd say yes, he wished with every bit of his being she would say yes, because he was ready to say yes to Japan, to go anywhere with her, if only she said one word.

"Merlin," she said, blinking down at the ring. Why wasn't she saying yes? Did she not want to marry him?

Colin began to panic, thinking perhaps he was an idiot to do this. Now the picnic was truly ruined, and probably his whole life. He'd built everything around being with Rhea, and what if it was over now because he made the stupid plan to propose, of all things? Everything was ruined.

She looked up at him, and he was surprised to see her laugh. Was she laughing at him? Was she pitying him?

"You silly thing, of course I'll marry you," she said eagerly. Colin felt all the weight leave his chest and stomach and he felt as though he were floating above the scene. Relief running through his veins. "So, Japan?"

"Of course," he said, grinning. "Rhea, I'd follow you anywhere."

They smiled at each other, both relieved in their own ways, and he let his hand rest on hers, thinking that while she was contacting their friends and family, he would sort his job.

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Padma left Ryana's sleeping form and greeted Catherine with a kiss as she and Harry came home from their dinner event.

"He finally did it," Catherine said, grinning. "Colin's proposed. We'll probably have to go to an engagement party soon, should bring Ryana, if you think it's time."

"Let me know a date," Padma said, glancing at Ryana, who was completely passed out. "I'll see what I can do."

Harry's body was tense, but he went through his routines without a hesitation. Padma considered him, wondering whether she should give him a higher dose level again. Perhaps he built up a tolerance, which would be a worrying thing. She would have to keep an eye on him.

"Parvati is waiting for you in your room, Harry," Padma said, caressing his neck, enjoying the way he leaned toward her touch like a puppy. "Don't forget, you've got an early morning tomorrow. Double training tomorrow, isn't it?"

He hummed his acknowledgement that it was, indeed, double training tomorrow. As soon as he left the room, she kissed Catherine, who kissed her back hungrily. She was so pleased Catherine had the day off work tomorrow.

While strictly speaking, she could probably dose Catherine once a week and achieve the same results, Padma wasn't one for unnecessary risk, now that she had her prize. The last thing she wanted was to lose Catherine, so regular doses, while probably unnecessary, were important. Besides, the more Bliss in her system, the easier it was to avoid even hints of resistance, if such things were ever to happen, anyway.

"Come to bed, pet," Padma said as Catherine peeled off her clothes, a requirement upon returning home. Catherine eagerly followed Padma to the master bedroom, sitting on the foot of the bed and kissing Padma hungrily, eagerly, desperately. Catherine wanted this, Padma told herself.

Not that Padma often questioned what she'd done, because what point was there this far into it? But she sometimes had a flicker of questioning in the back of her mind as she tried to think about what had changed in Catherine. From trading kisses and snogging for favors to a desperate hunger for Padma's body…. Padma had freed her from her own limited mind, of course. Bliss had allowed Padma to show Catherine the best way for her body. Especially after what that awful man had tried to do to Catherine, all those years ago now, this was for the best. This allowed Catherine the freedom to have her body pleasured and worshiped, as it should be, without defilement.

It was for the best, Padma thought as she took her position over Catherine's body, sitting on Catherine's face before leaning down to taste Catherine, enjoying the dual sensations of Catherine's taste and Catherine's tongue. If the rest of her life consisted of moments like this, Padma thought, pleased and excited, then every choice she'd made would be worthwhile. She dug her fingers into Catherine's thighs, trying to pull them further apart, to bury her face in deeper.

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Harry felt the panic in his body, coursing through him as he watched Parvati sleep on the bed. He was supposed to be curled up on the floor, but he needed to do this. Things had gone too far, too fast. Catherine wanted this, those words echoed through his head, even as he carefully lifted the charm from the little vial of pills on the bedside, but he needed to know. He needed to be sure, because he'd promised to protect his wife and he couldn't shake the feeling he'd failed her somehow.

He watched Parvati as he slipped a pill out of the vial, replaced the stopper, and re-added the charm. He used his wand to open the door to avoid making a sound, and he slipped out into the corridor, not bothering to dress. Everyone in the house had seen him naked, anyway.

Harry paused as he heard the euphoric moans and cries of sex coming from the master bedroom – what was once his bedroom, shared with his wife – which told him Catherine and Padma were locked in their passion. He shivered, feeling an urge to stop what he was doing, to sneak back up the corridor, perhaps beg to join them. He felt a coursing desire to taste them, both of them, either of them. He'd be happy just to watch his wife as she came.

But he felt the pill in his hand and he saw Ryana shift in her sleep on the sofa, and he knew he had to do this, had to finish what he started. He'd already made plans to see Hermione between his training sessions tomorrow, and he didn't want to tell her he'd said urgent for no good reason.

He slipped the pill into his training pack, sliding the capsule into his glove and closing the bag before creeping back to the guest bedroom, closing the door with magic, and curling up on the floor again.

But he couldn't sleep. Despite what he'd just done, despite the knowledge of what he was about to do, his hand went to his cock and he began to masturbate. He couldn't hear Catherine and Padma, but he knew what they sounded like, what they tasted like. He ran over his mantras in his mind as he fell into a comfortable, familiar pace, and allowed his training to take over.

 _Good boys use their tongues. Good boys give pleasure. Good boys give pleasure. Good boys give pleasure._

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Jason sat in his room at Grimmauld Place, watching the night sky, and he wondered why this horrible feeling kept settling in the pit of his stomach. Caroline was fine. Her exam period didn't tire her, and she seemed stronger than ever. That didn't mean everyone else was fine, but Caroline was not the source of his anxiety.

So why couldn't he shake the sensation something was terribly, horribly wrong?

 **A/N: So, Rhea and Colin are engaged, Slytherin won the House Cup, and Harry fights his training.**

 **Review Prompt: Since so many of you have expressed your concerns about how Blaise will take the news of what his fiancée has done, how do you think he'll react?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: To what extent will [the parents] know what happened and what Padma made them do? (Pebbles7092)**

 **A: Well, they'll definitely know about the drugs and that the submission is sexual in nature. But as for nitty-gritty details, they really aren't even going to ask. As far as the adults in their lives are concerned, the details are down to the couple to work out once they've recovered.**

 **Q: I wonder how much of Sirius's guilt will be for what happened to his daughter versus how this impacted the godson he loves. (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Honestly, he'll feel terrible about Harry, but his concerns for Catherine dwarf all else. And Catherine will definitely be worse for wear. Sirius will also be a bit…preoccupied with something else. You'll see.**

 **Q: Will [Harry] feel betrayed in any level or will he take it on himself that he made the decision to say yes? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Harry will probably have a little bit of betrayal, but again, it will be dwarfed with the guilt he's going to feel at letting it get like this, and letting it go so far. It's definitely more about guilt than betrayal.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	133. Diagnosis

**A/N: Here's Bonus 9! We're getting so close, darlings!**

 **-C**

Damon was spreading marmalade on his toast when the owls poured in bringing the Hogwarts letters. He looked over the envelopes in front of him and his sisters, and he took a deep breath as he opened his letter. He and Ourania had already received their OWL scores, and he'd done well. He hadn't managed to get a suitable score to move forward in Potions, but he passed Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and History of Magic, which were his priorities. Caroline had been inordinately pleased about passing Transfiguration with an Outstanding, as he'd thought she'd be more pleased with her Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he was pleased any time she was pleased.

"Book lists," Ourania sighed. "How boring. Nothing from Aeson."

"Aeson Lestrange writing to you?" their father said, eyebrows raising. "The world gets stranger every day."

Ourania just gave her father a look that said she wasn't amused. Then she said, "He promised to give an update on whether Brontes got Head Boy or not. Caro's going to be informing us about Jason. We've got a bet on it."

"I've told you not to gamble," their mother said, more absent than stern.

Ourania just ignored her, and Damon continued to eat his toast as he glanced at Cora, who was reading her booklist with obvious interest. He wondered what sort of stress Cora would be under. Then he asked if they were supposed to have dinner with Colin and Rhea before they took off for Japan for Merlin knows how long.

"They're going to be around before you go back to Hogwarts," his father said, pouring more pumpkin juice. "We're going to wrap it all up in one big going away party. If you three don't mind."

They all assured they didn't mind. The more they were celebrating, after all, the bigger the cake. No one reasonable would ever argue.

Their parents told them to go ahead and write their letters, as everyone certainly wanted to do. Ourania and Damon hurried upstairs, sitting in Damon's room as they wrote letters, and waited for the updates from Aeson and Caroline.

It took about twenty minutes for Cora to call out, "Natalie just wrote! She's Head Girl!"

Damon bit his lip, wondering how it would go, if Natalie and Jason were Heads together. They'd not been awkward since breaking up, but they weren't exactly close anymore. He supposed it would be cordial, and productive, but it might make them even less friendly than they already were. On the other hand, if Brontes became Head Boy….

"Oh, Aeson's is in," Ourania said, snatching up the letter that the Lestrange owl had dropped. Damon nodded for her to open it, especially as it was addressed to her. He expected the letter from Caroline would be addressed to him, so he wouldn't be totally left out. Ourania opened it, and he was surprised with how much Aeson had written. Her eyes scanned down about halfway, where she gasped and said, "Brontes didn't get it," before shifting how she was sitting and reading the rest of the letter.

Damon supposed Caroline would win the bet, then, and he almost figured it didn't matter if he waited around for the letter, but he wanted to get a letter from her, anyway. He paced the room a few times, even toying with kicking his twin out of the room so he could have his own space back, but before he decided to do this, Caroline's owl swooped into the room, resting on his desk regally, much the way her owner held herself.

Damon took the letter and opened it, feeling his heart race at what it might say. He got caught up reading updates on her summer, on her plans for sixth year, and on her expectations for when they returned to school, what she would want from him. Damon then read the final paragraph three times, enjoying her fantasies about what he would do if he found a way to sneak into her room in London, which he knew he couldn't possibly do. He was beginning to wonder if he could, perhaps, find a way anyway, because the things she was suggesting were mouthwatering. He wanted to touch her, to feel her fingers in his hair, to kiss every inch of her skin. It really wasn't fair of her to tease him like this, but he wouldn't want it any other way. Her teasing was only bested by her delivery, and he knew enduring this torture would be worthwhile when they got back to school. If he was very good, maybe even on the train.

"Well?" Ourania snapped, and he looked up at her, swallowing, trying to figure out what she was doing in his room. When she nodded to the letter, he remembered what the letter had been for in the first place, and he sighed.

"Right, Jason didn't get it."

"Wait," Cora said, poking her head in, puzzled, "did you just say Jason didn't get it?"

"Yeah."

"But," Ourania said, puzzled, "if Jason didn't get it, and Brontes didn't get it, then who's Head Boy?"

The twins turned to Cora, who knew much more about the students in her year than they did, and she shrugged, flushing.

"I guess Stewart Ackerley or Kevin Whitby."

Ourania and Damon looked at each other, and Ourania quickly said, "My money's on Ackerley."

"Whitby," Damon said, more softly, because the door was wide open.

Sure enough, moments later, their mother hollered up the corridor, "I've told you, no gambling!"

The important question, Damon thought, was how Aeson and Caroline were going to settle their bet, as neither of them had won. He supposed, in their long career of betting against each other on all manner of things, they had a contingency plan for this, but he had no idea what it might be. He simply kicked his sisters out of his room, and had wank before writing a letter back to Caroline.

/-/

Hermione frowned as she pulled out her test results on the capsule he gave her.

"Where did you get this stuff, Harry?" she asked, feeling tightness in her stomach. Harry said nothing, trying to grab her results, but Hermione pressed her hand down on the folder to thwart him. "Harry, what is this stuff?"

"It's…stuff," he said, shrugging. "If I knew what it was, d'you think I would have asked you to test it?"

He was sweating, she realized, and she licked her lips trying to decide how to say what she needed to say. Whatever was going on, Harry was very distressed. Nothing good would come of stirring him up further.

"I've been told the ingredients are safe," Harry said, wringing his hands. "But other than that…is it safe?"

Hermione sighed.

"In theory, the ingredients are safe. Each individual ingredient is a safe thing, and none of the ingredients create inherently dangerous reactions, but Harry, dangers aren't all about what's done to the body. Sometimes it's about what's done to the mind."

"What d'you mean?" he said urgently. "What's done to the mind?"

"Well," she said, licking her lips as she searched for the words, "there's a strong impact on pleasure receptors in the brain, perhaps the strongest of any drug I've ever read about. And it's not so much that any of the ingredients are addictive, but the way the brain reacts to pleasure on this would be addictive, and since it can't be replicated without the drug…."

"They'd need to keep having it," Harry said, and he gripped at his hair, shutting his eyes. "What would taking someone off of it be like?"

"Depends on the person's reaction, but there shouldn't be any physical withdrawal symptoms," Hermione said slowly. She was growing increasingly worried. "Probably just emotional symptoms. I wouldn't know without human tests, but I wouldn't risk it. I'd be hesitant to subject someone to a dose, much less a series of doses regular enough to produce withdrawal."

"What if…what if someone had been using it every day for…for a few years?"

"Harry," Hermione said sternly, pulling his hands away from his hair, making him look at her. "Harry, who's been taking this?"

She was stunned when he began to cry. She didn't know what to do, and he pulled his hands from hers, taking off his glasses and rubbing the heels of his hands onto his eyes. Hermione thought about asking again, but she knew there was no point. He was in no state to speak, and she could guess without him telling.

Somehow, for some reason, Catherine had gotten hooked on this stuff, and he was desperately trying to find a way to fix it.

"Harry, I think we should talk to your father-in-law."

"No," he whispered.

"But with his contacts—"

"I said no," Harry snapped. "Hermione, I appreciate the tests, but right now, while I figure some things out, what I need is your promise of silence. Alright?"

Hermione didn't want to agree to it, but Harry was so desperate, she didn't see much choice. Still, she promised herself, with the first sign of further trouble she would personally contact Catherine's father.

/-/

Brontes tried not to feel disappointed in his lack of Head Boy badge, not that his sister had earned the privilege. Still, to learn Jason hadn't got it either was a bit of a surprise. Brontes went to his father's study, knocking lightly on the door, almost wishing he hadn't. His father's voice told him to enter, and he did, finding his father considering his latest model work.

It was an astonishing, life-sized model of Catherine, with a few edges to smooth out, but largely in its final form.

"What do you think?" his father asked, setting aside his wand and pouring them drinks, to Brontes's surprise. "I think I'll have it finished for her at Christmas."

"It's very good," Brontes said softly, accepting the brandy, but not drinking any. Instead, he just looked down at the dark fluid as his father took a drink.

"You're going to ask me about the Head Boy business," his father said softly, "but that's not really why you're here. Don't worry, the door is charmed. Your mother can't hear us."

Brontes might have smiled, but instead he set aside the glass and said, "I know you give money to all sorts of things, father. I know we support progressive causes, but I also know…"

"You also know about this," his father said, rolling up his sleeve, showing Brontes a pale grey mark of a skull and a snake, a mark saying plainly what his father had done during the war. "I'm not proud of it, Brontes, but it wasn't to do with politics. It was to do with expectations, and I will never pass those expectations on to you. If it's about careers, do what you want. If it's about causes, support whatever you believe it. And if it's about marriage, for Merlin's sake, marry someone you love. I didn't marry your mother because of her family or her blood or her bank account. I married her because I love her, and if you married a Muggle without an ounce of magic, Brontes, I'd be pleased to welcome her to the family, provided you love her."

/-/

Padma frowned when Harry came back from his training looking exhausted. She thought he might like to play with Catherine and her later, but he didn't seem at all himself, and she supposed it would be too much to ask after double training.

"You seem tired," she said, testing the waters.

"I feel it," he said, setting down his bag in the foyer. "I could probably sleep a week."

"Well," she said, tracing her fingers along his shoulders, "I suppose an early night is in order. How would you like some Bliss for your dreams, pet?"

"Very much," he said, although she could see some struggle behind his eyes. She didn't like these long days at work. She'd up his dose, after all.

"Parvati?" she called out. "Take Harry to your room and make sure he has a dose, a full dose, before he goes to sleep. Then I want you to keep Ryana company until I've got the time to spare for her."

Parvati did as she was told and Harry went without a fuss or tightness in his shoulders, but Padma couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

/-/

Neville and Ron were laughing in the front room, listening to the Quidditch match as they talked and finished their chess match, but Luna was watching Hermione, who'd offered to help with the dishes, although her eyes said she was a million miles away.

"Everything alright?" Luna asked.

"Hmm?" Hermione said, looking up from the plates she was drying. "Oh," she said with a smile. "Yes, everything's fine, Luna. I've got a, erm, work issue I'm thinking about. Confidential, you know."

"House-elves?" Luna said, and Hermione hesitated before nodding.

Luna knew whatever was troubling Hermione, it had nothing to do with the elves, but she wasn't foolish enough to press. Hermione would have said if she thought she could, but as work obsessed as Hermione could be, Luna had never seen her like this. Whatever was bothering her, it was obviously very serious.

"I've completely forgotten to ask," Hermione said, forcing the conversation in a different direction, "how's everyone else in your set? Ginny and Rhea and Ryana and Kitty? I haven't seen any of them in ages, it feels."

"I see Ginny often enough," Luna said, shrugging. "Less, lately. She seems to have a lot of engagements these days. Ryana I haven't heard from in a while. Not sure what she's up to, actually, but we were never especially close. She always sort of…attached to us through her adoration of Kitty. Haven't seen a lot of Kitty, but she and Harry are wrapped up in each other, you know. Rhea's doing well, though. I see her whenever she's in town, and she writes constantly. They're in town now, actually, not going to Japan until December."

Hermione hummed and said, "Strange, isn't it? You see people every day in school, can't imagine not, and then you graduate and it's totally different."

Luna agreed, but she wasn't sure what she was agreeing to. She had a feeling it wasn't what Hermione was saying on the surface, at all, but whatever she had on her mind.

/-/

Natalie licked her lips, opening the letter from Kevin. She'd assumed he'd be Head Boy when she heard it wasn't Jason, but his reply now confirmed it. She and Kevin would be working closely together, and she couldn't tell whether she was disappointed or relieved. She'd almost assumed, from the time she and Jason became Prefects together, they'd end up being Heads together. When they broke up, she wasn't sure anymore, not really sure she knew him as well as she thought.

Kevin, though, Kevin would make a good Head Boy. He was solid, steady, stern. He knew how to be firm with students who needed it, kind when required, but he didn't compromise on the rules and he didn't make exceptions the way Jason sometimes did. Kevin and Natalie saw eye-to-eye on matters of discipline and order. But then, Kevin didn't have Jason's background of privilege to color his idea of law and order.

She would still work with Jason, and she wondered, as she set aside the letter, how things would change with her in charge of him. Would resent her new badge, or be pleased for her? Things were just beginning to be comfortable in friendship again. What did this new dimension mean for them?

Natalie fished out of her stack of congratulatory letters the one from Jason, in his smooth hand, telling her he was pleased she'd reached her ambition, and he knew she would perform her duties to a high level of excellence he'd come to expect from her in all things. A small piece of her wished, reading his letter, she hadn't let go of him when they were together. He was such a gentleman, so kind, and capable of supporting her in anything imaginable. His family was warm, if a bit grand, and she'd never want for anything at all. But she knew, despite the attraction, they would never have been happy together. As tempting as it would always be, becoming a virtual princess, royalty never suited Natalie. She was a plain sort of person, and she needed a plain sort of life. His friendship would have to be enough.

She pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from her desk and began to draft her reply to Kevin, wishing him all the congratulations he'd wished her, and asking whether he wanted to start planning their approach to the new year now, get everything sorted early.

/-/

Draco sat on the foot of his bed, legs folded under him, shaking. He wiped the sweat from his face.

He hadn't slept well for weeks, but this was different, this was worse. He'd had a nightmare, a memory of when Karkaroff had violated Catherine, back in school. Years ago, now, but staring into the darkness of his bedroom, if felt as close as his own skin.

Closer, even.

He swallowed, considering popping by, checking in on the Potters. He hadn't seen his cousin lately, and it might help him sleep better, at least tonight, if he saw her face, saw her smile, had her tell him that everything was fine, that she was fine.

But it wasn't her plaguing him as he frowned into the darkness, wiping away the sweat almost as quickly as it materialized at his brow.

The unanswered question, one he was afraid to speculate on but couldn't shake: What ever happened to Igor Karkaroff?

 **A/N: So, Hermione lays down the facts for Harry, Kevin and Natalie are Heads, and summer breezes by…**

 **Review Prompt: Why do you think Harry warned Hermione off telling Sirius?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will there be hard times for Ginny and Blaise in future chapters since what's happening with her? (Michand)**

 **A: I mean, it won't be easy for either of them, but Blaise will be very supportive. I think you'll all be pleased with how he responds, once he knows.**

 **Q: Will this cause tension between the Marauders or between Lily and Sirius? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: No, absolutely not. The beautiful thing about the relationships between the Marauders and Lily and Sirius, is that it's a very supportive relationship. And both Harry and Catherine are going to need a lot of support, so it'll be more all of them banding together to give the couple what they need, not infighting at all.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	134. Tip-Toe

**A/N: Here's Bonus Chapter 10!**

 **-C**

September the first, James went straight to Hogwarts, setting up his office, setting up his quarters, reluctant to leave Lily but excited for another year. He would relish the next two years. In two years' time, he would no longer have any of Sirius's children at the school, and as much of a pain as Caroline could be, Jason and Caroline were at a special point of their lives, and James liked to be a part of it.

He was just putting the last book on the shelf when Remus knocked on the open door and James looked up, smiling sadly.

"How was Lily?" Remus asked.

"Good," James said, grinning. "Probably pleased to get rid of me, get some peace for a few months." He sat down, gestured for Remus to come in and help himself to a drink. "How did we never manage to settle you down with someone?"

Remus snorted and didn't answer. James knew it wasn't about Remus's condition, not really. That had been the excuse for years, but as they were older, it was more about the way the condition had aged him, reminded him constantly of responsibility. It would take a special woman to fall for a man like him, and assuming Remus fell in the other direction.

"Severus tells me Cara hasn't been sleeping," Remus said softly. "I dunno if Sirius knows or not. She only told Severus because she was hoping he'd give her something."

"That's no good," James said, frowning. "Why are you telling me, though?"

"Because," Remus said softly, "I've had a horrible feeling of foreboding in my chest lately, and Severus is increasingly irritable. I don't think it's a simple matter of Cate not sleeping. I was hoping you'd keep an eye on Padfoot, see if you notice a difference in him, too."

James's stomach dropped. Sirius, Cara, Severus, Remus…. They all seemed specially tuned to Catherine's well-being. How it happened, James didn't know, but of there was something wrong with his daughter-in-law….

"It might be something small," James offered, pouring drinks. "Or something good. She could be pregnant, you know."

"Maybe," Remus said softly.

It might have been a mild response, but the small twitch in Remus's jaw screamed to James his friend doubted this very much. He wanted to ask whether this had ever happened for a good thing, but he was afraid to know the answer. If it only ever meant bad things, he didn't know what to think.

"I could have Harry round for drinks sometime," James said, glancing at his desk calendar, trying to think of his son's schedule. "Ask him how things are with Kitty. If there's something wrong…."

"He may not tell us," Remus said, raising his eyebrows. "Those two have become more and more enmeshed in their own little secret world, Prongs, ever since Karkaroff. Worse now they're grown up and married. Especially if she told him not to, he may not say a word."

James sipped his firewhiskey and wished Remus weren't right. Harry always, always did what Catherine told him to, for better or worse.

/-/

Fabian ushered the twins onto the platform and went through with Cora, with Dorcas to follow. He didn't hold his daughter's hand anymore, but he wished she'd let him. Yes, she was seventeen, but it didn't mean she was no longer his little girl.

He watched her find her friends instantly, spotting her boyfriend, saying a brief word over her shoulder to her father, and hurrying off to hug Natalie and Jason, to kiss Jimmy Peakes while they waited for Dennis Creevey.

"All grown up," Dorcas said sadly as Damon hurried off toward the Blacks, Ourania trailing after.

Disturbing, Fabian thought, how much his son reminded him of himself at that age, the devotion for Caroline strangely similar to the way he'd felt about Dorcas for years.

"Maybe I should have said no," he teased, kissing the top of his wife's head. "When Colin asked to marry Rhea. Maybe I should have held on to my baby a little bit longer."

"No," Dorcas said gently, sliding her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. "No, it's time for us to let go, darling. C'mon, let's smile, and when they've gone, I'll take you for chips."

/-/

Brontes stepped onto the train and his breath caught as he almost walked right into Rose Zeller. His conversation with his father was still on his mind, and when she smiled at him, he smiled weakly back. Brontes wanted to tell her she looked lovely, because she did. He wanted to tell her he admired her, because he did. He wanted to ask her to Hogsmeade, or anything at all.

But no words came out of his mouth, and she simply said, "Excuse me," before she walked past, toward his cousin and her friends. Brontes turned to watch her go, and he felt like such an idiot, just letting her walk away when he had so much he wanted to tell her.

He felt suddenly small, suddenly alone, as he realized his last sensible friend – Astoria Greengrass – was gone.

"Brontes," his cousin said, and he turned to face Jason, nodding to him as he strolled up with Natalie McDonald. "We're going to the Prefect meeting. You'd better put your things in a compartment, or you'll be late."

"Yes," he said, frowning slightly. "I…suppose I'd better find one."

"Oh, sit with us," Natalie McDonald said brightly. "Your friends were mostly older, weren't they? We've got room. Here, Jason, you help him get his things away, and I'll see you both there."

She walked away as though she hadn't just ordered them around, and Brontes raised his eyebrows at his cousin.

"Best do as she says," Jason teased. "She's in charge of us now, after all. Here, I'll take this end. Cora'll be pleased to see you. I imagine you can get Dennis to shut up with just a look. He's incredibly chatty this year."

"It would be my pleasure," Brontes said, smirking, his eyes trailing up the corridor to find Rose Zeller retreating, but she was gone.

/-/

Anastasia Barbary crossed her legs at the ankle and frowned at the bored expression of Caroline Black, across the compartment. Yes, Whitby and McDonald weren't especially…entertaining, but Anastasia didn't see any reason to be rude.

Then again, Aeson wasn't particularly interested in the instructions, either. She wondered whether they'd cause problems for whomever became Heads the next year, and she half-hoped it wouldn't be her, just so she wouldn't be held responsible for their inability to be controlled.

"Any questions?" McDonald said, and most people shook their heads, including Anastasia. Caroline Black surprised everyone, however, but putting her hand up with a sly smile. McDonald hesitated, intelligently, but Whitby took the bait.

"Black?" he said, looking at her directly to avoid confusion with her brother.

"Why don't we make rounds interesting this year?" she said in a horribly saccharine voice, a voice making Aeson sit up a bit straighter and causing both Caroline and Aeson's brothers eyes to go wide.

"Caro," Jason hissed, horrified.

"Relax," she said, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder smoothly. "Nothing dangerous. Just a little…pool. Keeping odds on which patrol zones will see the most action in, say, a week? Running numbers. We could do it in Chocolate Frog cards, if you feel doing it in gold's too vulgar."

McDonald looked almost apoplectic, and Brontes cleared his throat, giving Whitby a highly significant look.

"We'll consider," Whitby said quickly, "and get back to you. Now, do your patrols as usual, please, and don't forget to check in with your Heads of House for the passwords when we arrive at the school. Have a nice ride."

Well-handled, Anastasia thought, wishing Aeson didn't seem too amused and excited by the scene his cousin had just made. He was already a bit…difficult to work with, if only because he behaved a bit like an over-grown child.

/-/

Ritchie Coote nearly fainted when he saw his sixth year schedule. He'd had a brief meeting with his Head of House and had initially been pleased to have scraped enough to continue Defense Against the Dark Arts…. That is, until he'd seen he'd have three classes on Mondays, and two weekend classes.

"On the bright side," Damon Prewett said when they compared schedules, "You've got the rest of the weekdays off."

"Yeah," Ritchie said, frowning, "but what d'you want to bet those are set aside for work?"

"No need to bet," Caroline Black said with a sly smile, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "That's exactly why they do it that way. Seventh year is the same. I'm jealous, actually. Daddy's course is on Thursday afternoon, and Uncle James is Friday morning. I've got a relatively rotten schedule."

"Only because you insisted on taking everything," Ourania Prewett teased, and Ritchie could tell he wasn't wanted in the conversation, anymore, when they signaled across the way to Rose Zeller. He gathered his things, and went to Professor Lupin's classroom, resigning himself to the fate of his new schedule.

/-/

Neville watched Hermione pace as she dictated to him a string of appointments she had for the day, and she hesitated around lunchtime, frowning to herself.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and she paused, but she shook her head before continuing her dictation. Neville took it all down and passed it to her, and she scanned it before nodding.

"Right," she said, and then she paused. "Neville, have you seen Harry recently?"

"Harry?" Neville said, rubbing his temples. "Erm, he was supposed to come for drinks with Ron and me the other day, but he had to call it off last minute, had a back strain at training. Why?"

"Are you sure it was a training injury?" she said, clearly suspicious.

Neville laughed.

"Hermione, it's not a sex injury," he said, watching her head jerk slightly at the insinuation. "They even reported it on the WWN. He was injured in training, they're keeping an eye on it for the upcoming match. Not a big deal."

But Hermione just hummed, kissed his cheek, and said she'd see him at lunch.

/-/

Jason didn't have a course until several days into the week, and his sleep hadn't improved. He was almost willing to mention it to his father, come Thursday, but his father's mood had also grown increasingly dark, and Jason wondered whether he'd better not leave it alone.

He had Uncle James after, and then he would have some time off until dinner started, to sort out his head. When Uncle James asked him to stay after for a minute, though, Jason knew he was busted.

"You're looking pale, Jason," Uncle James said, gesturing for Jason to have a seat, which he did. "Everything alright? Prefect duties not too much?"

"No," Jason said, rubbing his temples. "No, I'm balancing my responsibilities just fine. It's just I'm…struggling with sleep."

He hadn't expected to see Uncle James's face tighten like that, and he held his breath as his godfather seemed to struggle with something. Finally, he said, "Have you thought about seeing Madam Pomfrey?"

"I'd rather not," Jason said softly. "I…don't like the infirmary very much. My sisters have spent a lot of time in there."

"Understandable," Uncle James said, frowning. "I'll have a quiet word with Severus, Jason, see if there's something he can do quietly for you. If that's alright?"

Jason nodded. If Uncle James took care of it, it seemed less likely to get back to his parents, and thus worry them over nothing. Because he told himself it was nothing, despite a feeling in the pit of his stomach that increasingly told him it was almost certainly something.

"Let's go to the kitchens, then, shall we?" Uncle James said with a wink. "We've both got a free period. May as well indulge in some sweets before dinner. You're only seventeen once, after all."

How could Jason say no?

/-/

Damon managed to coax Caroline into his room Thursday night, despite her having a Friday morning class. Caroline simply had to be in class to learn, not actually pay attention. This was his argument, and she clearly found it flattering, agreeing to come up to his bedroom while their classmates were either still at dinner, or out-and-about, studying. No one in his dormitory would dare mention her presence, anyway.

They were too afraid she'd castrate them.

He charmed the hangings around the bed to encase them in their own private world, and his breath caught when he turned around to see she was already mostly undressed. She was down to a bra and knickers, and he placed his hand over hers as she reached around for the clasp of her bra, eager to do it himself. She withdrew her hand, and he kissed her shoulder blade.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, tracing his fingers down from where he kissed to the clasp of her bra. She said nothing, but he didn't mind, kissing above the clasp before he undid it.

Caroline shrugged it off her shoulders before turning around to face him, watching him as he bit his lip, admiring the way her breasts looked as she lay back on the bed. He moved down to kiss her neck, downward from there to her breasts.

"So perfect," he sighed against her skin, relishing in the warmth of her body.

Her fingers traced through his hair and he sensed she had tensed, hesitant. He looked up at her, his eyes asking without words if she was alright. For the first time he could recall for a very long time, she almost looked…vulnerable.

"You know I do love you, right?" she said. "When I don't say it, it's not because I don't feel it."

"I know," he said, astonished.

"It's just who I am."

"I know," he whispered, and he kissed her lips gently. "And I love who you are."

She kissed him back, the conversation already a phantom of the past.

/-/

Ourania thought she'd cry when she hit her first weekend course. Sunday morning, about an hour after breakfast, she filed into Professor Flitwick's classroom, and tried not to groan at how chipper he was. Other sixth year students were frowning, and those who'd done Astronomy the night before were bleary-eyed and yawning.

"Good morning, good morning," he said, not bothering to take formal roll call, but instead checking them off as they entered. "I must congratulate you all on making it to this level of my class. I recognize there has been a great deal of adjustment for many of you this week, and it is not ideal to have classes on weekends. Professor Sinistra and I make the sacrifice every year, however, and I feel it is a small request that you spend two years in at most two courses doing the same. I trust you enjoyed your Tuesday and Wednesday off?" Everyone laughed, as every available course spot had something in it for sixth year. It was virtually impossible not to have homework on Tuesday. "Well, Wednesday, then," he said, grinning. "Everyone knows by now of NEWT projects. Show of hands if you've thought of what you'll do in Charms."

As expected, only a few hands went up, including Caroline and Aeson, who were always trying to best each other. Ourania frowned slightly as she saw Aeson looking at her, probably to see if she would raise her hand, but she'd given it absolutely no thought. She was too busy thinking about how to get experience in work before she got around to apply for jobs. She supposed she could do an impromptu internship with someone in her mother's office.

"That's alright," Professor Flitwick chirped. "Happens every year. Your first assignment is brainstorming project ideas."

/-/

Severus took his Sunday afternoon off marking and planning, going down to England, into the wizarding section of Birmingham, where Catherine Potter's apothecary and potion shop was located. He'd had a talk with Remus and James Potter earlier in the week, and they'd agreed it was best to drop in on her unannounced and see how she appeared before accosting her husband on the matter.

Learning Jason was sleeping poorly sealed it for Severus, who had been unable to achieve emotional control for some time, and his own sleep was becoming increasingly elusive.

A little bell rang when he opened the door, and he heard her voice, sweet and unconcerned, calling out from the back how she would be right out. He said nothing, looking around at her prices, impressed with her ability to get a few ingredients difficult to import to England – no doubt because her surname and maiden name opened doors.

"Oh!" he heard her say, and he looked up, his eyes scanning her person. Her skin seemed fine, and her hair was well-cared for. "Severus, it's good to see you."

He said nothing as she came around the counter and kissed his cheek. No doubt, had he been someone else, she would have hugged him, as was her custom, but the kiss was quicker. From this closer vantage point, he could see her pupils were dilated, but this could be a product of something she was brewing, or of some foolish thing she and her husband were experimenting with. She took after her father, in that regard. He could see she still smoked cigarettes from the cigarette case in her apron pocket.

"I had a little time on my hands," he said, "and I thought I would check in on my protégé. Lily tells me she has you working on sourcing ingredients for her attempts at a cure."

"Yes," she said, pursing her lips, her eyes a million miles away. "Come look; I have them set aside in the back."

Catherine seemed fine, but no matter how long he stayed, no matter how fine she seemed, Severus couldn't shake the feeling something was terribly wrong. He thought about using Legilimency as he took his leave, but he decided against it.

Not without speaking to her father, he decided. For the moment, all seemed well enough.

 **A/N: So, Caroline is being a toad, the various people attached to Catherine grow increasingly concerned, and Severus's brief reconnaissance turns up nothing to worry him further…yet.**

 **Review Prompt: Since it's next chapter…who wants to guess Harry's breaking point?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Padma discover what Harry has done? (CieStars)**

 **A: No, she won't know about his getting Hermione's opinion on Bliss. It won't come out until she's…out of the way.**

 **Q: Is there any information on what the other characters are doing, or did I miss it? (Guest)**

 **A: Okay, this weekend, when I update the character info, I'll be sure to add employment info to each person's stuff. Obviously, people are growing quickly, at this week's rate of update, so I haven't been keeping a live update on my profile. But if you're curious, check this weekend on my profile for who's doing what, who's dating whom, etc. Still plenty of chapters in the meantime!**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	135. Til Death Do Us Part

**A/N: And here's Bonus 11! This is the fateful beginning of the end of Part 2, and I can't wait to get y'alls reviews.**

 **-C**

Cora laughed as she pulled Jason around the corner so Kevin didn't hear their conversation.

"Sorry," she whispered as Kevin Whitby passed. "You're a Prefect, and I wouldn't want you to be in trouble for hosting a party off grounds."

"Kitty always got away with it," Jason said with a shrug.

"Kitty got away with everything," Cora said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, Brontes assures me he'll be there, so he can keep Aeson in check if Caro goads him. Just sixth and seventh years?"

"Who else would we invite?" Jason said with a shrug. "Hey, will you come with me to get the drinks? Caro's taking care of food."

"Go with you where?" Cora asked, narrowing her eyes. She didn't want to go anywhere too far, and she doubted they were just nipping off to the Hog's Head. He saw her hesitation and he laughed.

"Relax. Brontes is having Blaise Zabini bring it by a designated place on the edge of the village during the Hogsmeade trip. We can stash it in the Shack during the day, so it'll be ready for nighttime. Caro's having Dobby supply food. She's going to call him from the foothills and arrange things from there. He adores her."

Cora shook her head. Everyone adored Caroline, except for the people who wanted to strangle her for being so full of herself. But no one could deny, she wasn't bragging. She just wasn't humble, but she could do everything she claimed.

"Alright, I'll go," she said, frowning as he rubbed his temple. "Jason, tell me you've been sleeping."

"M'fine," he lied, smiling weakly. "Hey, have you and Jimmy talked about what you're going to do after school?"

"Not really," she said, shrugging and pulling him along toward the Great Hall. Breakfast wouldn't be on forever. "I figure I'll just let things go as they go, take my time. Ginny said she could get me a job writing Quidditch, easy, so I'll be set, no matter what he wants. And Uncle Gideon would support me on anything. He's already hinted he wants to pay the down payment whenever I get my first place."

Jason nodded, leading her to the Gryffindor table, where Natalie was sitting with the boys.

"You're not going to cause problems tonight?" he whispered to Natalie, who sighed, frowning at him.

"I know how this works, Jason," Natalie whispered. "You'll get away with it, anyway, so I may as well enjoy myself. Don't worry about Kevin. I've got him covered. He's got an…anonymous tip there's going to be a shindig at the Astronomy Tower."

"Is there?" Dennis asked between shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Natalie shrugged.

It was probable that some naïve younger students would try it, but Cora supposed it didn't matter, one way or another. Kevin would be busy policing it, because that was the sort of person he was. Natalie and Cora respected this about him, but it did make throwing parties a bit of a chore.

Jason checked his watch, glanced up at his father, and said, "Jimmy, I'm borrowing Cora for the first part of the trip today. We'll meet you guys at the Three Broomsticks. Don't ask questions."

And as usual, when Jason spoke, everyone agreed with what he said, no questions asked.

/-/

Orla narrowed her eyes as she turned to Stewart while they walked to Hogsmeade.

"How is it," she said softly, "every time there's a major holiday, something worth celebrating, the Blacks and their friends and family get time off patrolling, and are off-duty?"

Stewart frowned and shrugged, glancing across to the brisk pace of Jason Black and Cora Prewett.

"Just don't ask questions," he said, which outraged Orla, but she said nothing. "The last thing I'd want to do is upset Caroline Black."

"Surely you mean Professor Black."

"No," Stewart said, wincing. "I mean, I don't want to upset him, either, but Caroline scares me. And I think she'd scare any sane human being. Besides, Jason's not so bad. And it's not like he and Cora Prewett are a pair of troublemakers."

Orla said nothing. He wasn't exactly wrong, but she had a horrible feeling he wasn't fully right. Just because they'd never been caught making trouble didn't mean they weren't troublemakers.

/-/

When training was called because of a localized blizzard – courtesy of a disgruntled fan – Harry had a wild, a mad idea. He would go by Catherine's shop, he would surprise her in the middle of the day. It was Halloween, and he thought perhaps he could convince her to go on a one-off, one-day trip with him somewhere. When he got her there, he could Stun her, call in Hermione, maybe even his mother, do a detox. He could have someone look into Padma, or even just abandon the House, convince Catherine to live out of the country.

He'd not really planned, he was just working on the fly, and he had all kinds of wild ideas running through his head.

But then he got to her shop, and there was no one in. The shop was locked, the sign was proclaiming it closed, and Catherine was nowhere to be seen.

This wasn't like her, even with Padma in their lives, so he hurried home, sure something terrible had happened.

Harry silently unlocked the front door, tossing his bag outside, not worried about the rain. What mattered was his wife, and what might be wrong. He could hear voices up the hall, in the master bedroom, but he saw Ryana and Parvati in the front room. He bit his lip, pulling out his wand, not sure what to do. Whatever he ended up doing, he couldn't let them get tangled up in it. If it was him against Padma, he didn't want it to be him against all the women in the house.

Silently, he Stunned them, and hastily impeded their fall, levitating them onto the sofa to keep from alerting Padma with a loud thumping noise. Then he crept into the house, slipping out of his shoes and moving forward to avoid detection. He could hear Padma's voice, and he touched his pocket, full of Bliss capsules he'd been pouching in his cheek when Parvati gave them to him, ever since he'd had his talk with Hermione. His mind needed to be clear if he was going to help Catherine. It was hard, and he sometimes thought of taking one, just to feel the euphoria, but he needed to protect her.

He'd promised to protect her.

Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears.

/-/

Jason slipped Blaise a pouch of coins, filled with the agreed-on price for the case of alcohol provided. Cora was about to count the bottles, but Jason held up his hand to stop her. Blaise never counted the money, so there was no use insulting him by counting the merchandise. He'd learned from Catherine, business of this kind was based on trust.

"Pleasure," Blaise said, slipping the pouch in his robes. "While I've got you here, tell your sister I want to see my fiancée from time to time. She's been hogging her."

"I haven't spoken to Kitty lately," Jason said, feeling horrible tightness in his chest. "I'll be sure to pass the message on, though."

Blaise nodded, wished them a happy Halloween, and Disapparated, leaving the pair of teenagers to deal with the case.

"How do we get it to the Shack?" Cora asked. "I'm sure it's heavy, and it'll be pretty obvious if we carry it between us."

"Easy," Jason said with a shrug. "We do a Feather-Light Charm and a Disillusionment Charm. I'd say shrink it, but Kitty told me never to trifle with resizing alcohol, and she's had a lot more experience with this sort of thing than I."

"Illicit substances?" Cora asked, anxiously.

"Potions," he said, smirking, but he supposed both were true. Cora and Jason did the charms, and they practiced carrying the invisible case between them, trying to make it look like they were walking naturally, arms swinging, without any bulk causing a strange gap between them. The day was overcast, which helped, but it wasn't too difficult for them to look natural.

After all, they were used to sneaking around by now, if not as used to it as his sisters and their friends.

"What d'we do if your father sees us?" Cora said softly. "Isn't he on duty in the village today?"

"What we do is lie," Jason said, hating saying those words even as he said them. "It's not like it's a real lie. He knows. We just can't admit it to his face, or he has to do something about it."

Cora was not convinced, but he knew she'd follow his lead. He just wished he knew if he'd follow his own lead.

/-/

Harry held his breath as he heard Padma say, "Isn't this better, pet?"

"Yes," Catherine sighed. He squeezed his eyes shut, tightly. He didn't want to imagine what they were doing in there, and he could feel his hand twitching to his pocket again. He so badly wanted to touch them, both of them.

"No work," Padma said, and Catherine groaned in agreement.

This wasn't like her, he thought. Catherine loved work, and she was damn good at it. She'd been so excited to help his mother with the werewolf research. Catherine would never agree to this.

"No Harry," Padma said, and Harry felt his eyes sting as Catherine agreed, repeating the words. She then gasped and moaned, and Harry rain his fingers through his hair.

A small voice in the back of his mind told him this was what Catherine wanted. This was what made her happy. Who was he to be selfish when she was happy? But then he remembered what Hermione had said about Bliss, about how dangerous it was, how Catherine would agree with anything while on it, and he realized he had to do something, had to do something big. He wouldn't be able to coax her away to another country, but some opportunity had to present itself. He wasn't going to leave her here, and he didn't want to cause an incident.

"I'll be back, pet," Padma said, and Harry hurried from the door, zipping into the kitchen, not thinking about what she wanted, where she might go. He just knew he couldn't be seen. He tried not to breathe as he waited to hear where she went, but it was difficult. He'd never attempted to hold his breath when he was so close to tears, but he didn't like it. It made his body ache, like his ribs were about to break around his lungs.

Padma's feet were audible in the corridor, and he knew she was going to go to the powder room, but she paused, and he bit his lip, desperate to hold his breath. She could tell something was wrong, and what was he going to say if she came in, saw him standing in the kitchen? But surely she wasn't going to come into the kitchen, he told himself. If he could just be quiet enough, there was no need for her to think anything was wrong.

He realized too late, as the door to the kitchen was opening, he'd left two unconscious women on a sofa between the master and the powder room, between the master and the kitchen, and now Padma was looking right at him, eyes narrowing as he tried to look at her face and not the delicious contours of her naked body. His pulse raised, and he thought of all his training, all the mantras she'd crammed into his head to make him crave tasting her, to make him enjoy serving her, to make him pleased to be humiliated by her, and his wife, and Parvati, all so she could do whatever she was doing to twist Catherine's mind.

"Well," she said, soft as skin. "You're home early."

/-/

Remus was clinking his drink to Sirius's when he had a sudden fear prickle the back of his neck, like a premonition. He thought perhaps he'd merely imagined it when he looked up and saw Sirius had gone pale.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Remus whispered.

"Caro?" Sirius choked out. "What if she's done something to her magic again?"

"No," Remus said. He downed his drink in a few swift gulps, much to the surprise of Sirius, whose eyes were wide. "No, I think it's Kitty. I never feel like this except with that silly girl. We need to talk to Severus."

"But we're on duty," Sirius said, although he stood without even touching his drink.

"Minerva will understand," Remus said absently. "Besides, Hagrid's around somewhere. He'll keep an eye on things."

They passed Jason and Cora on their way back to the castle, and it vaguely registered in Remus's mind they had too much space between them as they walked, but he pushed it from his mind. He needed to focus on Kitty, focus on whatever this feeling was they'd both had.

"It can't be anything awful," Sirius said tightly. "She's at work. I mean, nothing awful would happen in the middle of wizarding Birmingham, would it?"

Remus said nothing. During the war, he'd seen awful things happen all over the place, as had Sirius. Neither man was naïve, and neither man truly believed all would be well when they checked in on her.

They'd not even reached the castle when Severus came storming out the front doors, his eyes wild. He stopped short of them when he registered they were there, and he seemed hesitant to say anything in front of Sirius.

"We all felt something," Remus said, his stomach turning. "Cara?"

Sirius looked terribly pale then, and he seemed torn between checking on his daughter and checking on his wife.

"We could split up," Severus offered, but Sirius shook his head. Remus understood why – no matter which place he went, he'd feel like he should have one the other way. They needed to decide where Sirius needed to be first, and then the other two men could make decisions accordingly.

"I need to see my daughter," Sirius managed to say, his voice strangled and strange. "She should be at work."

"Yes, she should," Severus said slowly. "She may be at home, however, if she's taken ill. She might have gone home early."

"Or she may have gone to see her mother," Remus reasoned. "She wouldn't want to bother you at work, Sirius, but she knows her mother would be in London. Or maybe Lily, if Lily's in Godric's Hollow."

"This isn't working," Sirius snapped. "There are too many options. We need to decide what to do, not muddy the waters further."

Remus could feel throbbing in his head, and he could taste Karkaroff's blood on his teeth. He turned away to vomit in the hedgerows.

/-/

"Put the knife down, Harry."

Padma's voice was smooth and calm, but Harry didn't care. He didn't even remember picking up a knife, but there it was, in his hand, and he was holding it out between them.

"I won't let you keep hurting her," Harry snarled.

"Does she seem hurt to you?" Padma said, taking a step closer, amused. "I'm helping her, Harry."

He held the knife up higher. He'd heard it all before. He knew what she wanted to say. It bounced in his head, even now, even when he couldn't remember the last time he had a full dose of Bliss. How long until his wife wondered what was taking so long? How long until she came looking?

"Stop lying," he said. "I don't care if she'll never look at me again, Padma, I will not let anything hurt her again."

Padma was about to say he didn't mean it, and he would die inside if he lost Catherine's love, and it would never be enough to know she was safe.

That's what she was about to say, but even as the words echoed in Harry's head as half-truths, he thrust the knife through her abdomen. The shock in her eyes as she registered what he'd done was a long, slow moment, and then Harry pulled out the knife, thrusting it in again, and she gasped.

And again. And again. And again.

The kitchen door opened. Catherine screamed, and Harry let go of the knife, reaching for his wand with his bloody hand. He cast a Patronus, but only two words escaped his lips with the message before he hurried to catch Catherine, who was running out of the room, shrieking. He held her in his arms as she flailed and screamed, and he hated himself.

/-/

"What?" Delia asked her husband. "What d'you mean Cara needs you? What's happened?"

"I don't know," Rabastan growled, "and I don't particularly care. My sister needs me. I don't know when I'll be back. Don't wait up if I'm late. I'll come home when I can."

She watched him storm out of the house and heard his Disapparation as she stood, aghast, in the foyer.

"Mother?"

"It's nothing, Adrasteia!" she called up the stairs, but whatever it was, Delia knew it wasn't nothing. She had half a mind to go over to Grimmauld Place after him, but Merlin only knew what might happen if she left. She took deep, steadying breaths and decided to have a glass of white wine while she waited for her husband.

"Mum," Adrasteia called down the stairs.

"Whatever it is, Adra, deal with it yourself!"

She heard the door slam, but Delia couldn't be bothered. She poured a very large glass of wine, and settled herself down to drink it. She hadn't realized it would go so quickly, but in a few gulps it was gone, and she poured herself another.

/-/

The lioness Patronus bounded up to the trio of men on the Hogwarts lawn and turned to none of them in particular as it opened its mouth.

"Help," said Harry's voice, strained. "Home."

It dissipated, not strong enough to say more perhaps, or maybe having delivered all its message. Sirius didn't care which. All three men hurried for the gate so they could Apparate to his daughter's house. No other thoughts were necessary.

 **A/N: *hums a happy, cheerful ditty***

 **Review Prompt: Tell me how you feel.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How involved will the parents be with the recovery of Harry and Catherine? (Pebbles7092)**

 **A: Oh, they'll be intensely involved. Lily will be by far the most directly involved of all the parents, but they'll all be quite, quite involved, as will other adults in their lives.**

 **Q: What do you envision the job of a dueler involves, and what kind of training Rhea is currently going through? (Guest)**

 **A: Ah, very interesting question. Sparring, for sure. Training physically and magically to strengthen herself in both ways. Learning new spells, trying to find ways to improve the ones she does know, studying practice in the part of the world she's living in – currently Japan. As we know from Jo, the wizarding world is a vast place with many different practices.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	136. In Sickness

**A/N: Bonus 12! Here begins the end of Padma, and life after her. I'm still doing my happy dance.**

 **-C**

Brontes arrived early, by several hours. He'd agreed to help Jason with the setup for the party, and he was surprised to see the friend Caroline brought along was not her boyfriend, but Rose Zeller. He paused, watching her charm little balls of light around the room as if they were on a string. Brontes wondered what it would look like to see such light around her face, in tiny balls as he touched her hair. He found it difficult to breathe, and he turned away, just in time to see Jason nearly collapse.

"What's wrong?" he asked, helping his cousin into a chair in the next room, not wanting to disturb the girls.

"I don't know," Jason groaned. "I feel…. I don't know. I haven't been sleeping very well. It's nothing, it's happened before."

"When was the last time?" Brontes asked, not at all believing that such a thing could be nothing.

"When…when Kitty was…."

Jason groaned, pressing his hand into his forehead. Brontes told him to rest for a while, to let Brontes take care of the preparations for the party. He wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Perhaps they shouldn't be having a party at all, but it seemed right somehow. He went back out to the girls, who were discussing whether the lights should simply be white, or perhaps they should charm them to different colors.

"Orange is neutral," Rose Zeller argued. "And it's associated with Halloween."

"Orange is a little too close to bronze for my tastes," Caroline said, frowning up at the lights. "It'll be a bunch of Gryffindors, a Hufflepuff, and a couple of Slytherins. I'm not putting bronze in the lights."

"What if you had it cycle through a series of colors?" Brontes said softly. "I could show you how, if you need help."

"I know how," Caroline said, taking away his chance to have a conversation with her friend, but Brontes was too worried about Jason to be upset.

/-/

Harry was curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor when he heard them arrive. Uncle Remus, Uncle Sirius, Professor Snape all bounded into the house, and they looked around with alert faces, wands out. When Uncle Sirius saw Catherine on the floor he panicked, hurrying forward, but Professor Snape got there first, kneeling beside her.

"She's unconscious," Harry croaked. He wiped at his eyes, knowing he was smearing Padma's blood on his face, but he couldn't seem to stop. The three men looked at him, their eyes taking in the scene, Padma's body, the knife, the blood everywhere, on Catherine, on Harry. They'd probably already seen the unconscious, nude women in the front room.

"She wouldn't stop screaming," Harry gasped as Uncle Sirius began to tremble. "I had to Stun her. I couldn't…. I…"

"I think it would be best," Snape said coolly, "if you started at the beginning."

Harry swallowed.

What was the beginning? Padma and Catherine trading kisses for favors? The way Catherine lied about her memory and took her solace in the cigarettes and alcohol? The strange need she felt to be out of control in just one aspect of her life?

Unsure where to begin or what to say, he pulled the Bliss capsules out of his pocket and placed them on the floor. Snape snatched one up, taking it apart and doing several spells, frowning as he tested it.

"What is it, Harry?" Uncle Remus asked gently.

"Ask Hermione," Harry said, rubbing at his face again. "She tested it for me."

/-/

Jason knew the party was going in the other room, or at least beginning, but he was curled up over the sink, trying not to vomit. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, but he knew if he left to look into it now, he would be neglecting his friends. He heard a knock on the door.

"Jason?" Cora's voice said gently. "Brontes said you weren't feeling very well. Is there something I can do?"

"No," he said, wincing. "Just have fun, okay? I'll come out when I'm feeling a bit better.

If he started feeling a bit better, he thought bitterly as she went away. Just for once, he wanted things in Catherine's life to be good, normal, healthy, because it did seem to be related to things going wrong in her life. He didn't want to believe it, but somehow he always knew when something was wrong with Catherine.

He couldn't hold it in anymore. He knelt over the bowl of the toilet and vomited, retching over and over and over again.

/-/

Rose held her breath, excited, as Brontes Lestrange followed her to the far side of the room, where she was intending to fix some of the lights, which had stopped cycling through colors properly. She raised her wand, and was startled when he touched her arm gently and said, "Please, Miss Zeller. Allow me."

"It's Rose," she said, looking up at him as he fixed the charm. She tried to focus on her breathing as he turned to look at her, but she didn't know what to say. She just stared up at him, reminding herself to breathe.

"I…I hope you're enjoying the party," she said awkwardly.

"I am." He leaned closer. "Are you enjoying it, Miss Zeller?"

"Rose," she reminded him, but he said nothing, just watching her as she swallowed. "Yes, I'm enjoying it very much."

"I'm glad," he said, and she was surprised when he took her hand. His fingers were warm, gentle, thin. She wanted to say something, but she'd forgotten what it was. "You look very lovely tonight, Miss Zeller."

"Rose," she whispered. She cleared her throat, focusing on the way his thumb caressed her hand. "Erm, thank you. You…."

She couldn't think of the words she should say, or the words she wanted to say. She just stared up into his gray eyes and wondered what he was thinking as he looked at her. For years now, she'd felt he'd been watching her, but he'd never really made any sign of why or what he wanted. He was a warm person, comfortable, like a guardian angel watching over her shoulder when she most needed a word of encouragement, or a small act of kindness. But here he was, standing at a party in the Shrieking Shack, holding her hand for some unforeseen reason and telling her she looked lovely.

He kissed her hand with cool, dry lips and took his leave from her. She stared after him, and tried to calm her racing heartbeat.

/-/

Sirius's head was light as Hermione and Severus talked about the pill, as Remus coaxed the full story out of a shaking, traumatized Harry. Catherine was still unconscious on the floor, naked, with Padma Patil's blood smeared over her body. He felt sick to his stomach, and he didn't know what to do. How could all of this have been going on for so long and he didn't see? How could his daughter have been a prisoner of her…her….

He didn't even know the word.

Severus touched Sirius's shoulder and gestured for him to follow through to the foyer. Sirius did follow, and he said softly, "Lily, Hermione, and I can make the potions to detox them, and whoever else needs it. The impression Remus gives, it's a short list. She wasn't selling it, for whatever it's worth. My concern is doing this privately. Hermione, Lily, and I can take shifts covering Catherine's business, although it must be closed more often than not. Harry will need to take time off from Quidditch. I can't begin to guess what Miss Cotton or Miss Patil will require, apart from detox and rigorous counseling sessions.

"Catherine and Harry will need privacy, Sirius. That is something we must work very hard to give them."

"Suggestions?" Sirius whispered, breathing deeply through his nostrils.

"I'm going to talk to Dorcas, Narcissa, and Rabastan about covering things at the Ministry. We'll need someone to handle publicity, someone we can trust. And I think they should leave the country for a while, while they detox. It's probably the only way to avoid their being contacted."

Sirius nodded. The Ministry matters would be dealt with simply enough. He could have Harry take Catherine to France. She had always been happy there, and it would be a good place for them to start over, start fresh. While they were managing, however….

"I know who to talk to," he said. "You take care of the Ministry. Have Cara and James make arrangements for them to go to the French villa. I will have a quiet conversation with Mr. Barker."

If Severus was surprised by this, he said nothing, just nodding and stepping into the next room to give Remus instructions for cleaning the scene.

They needed a story, just like all those years ago, and no one was nearly as good at inventing such things as Severus Snape.

/-/

"Come in," Cara heard Rabastan say upstairs. She sat in the kitchen, pulling a ribbon between her hands, and she wondered who was at the door. She'd not heard from Sirius, not heard from Lily, not heard from her daughter….

Rabastan led Severus downstairs, and she sat straighter eager for any news, good or bad.

"I need to tell you a story, Rabastan," Severus said, kissing Cara's hand before sitting down. "And then I'll need your help spinning it suitably for Ministry and public consumption."

"Fuck," Rabastan hissed.

Not again, Cara thought as Severus explained Catherine and Harry had been partaking for many years of a dangerously addictive drug. Severus told them how their dealer was using it to control them, sexually, and Harry finally snapped, killed the dealer in an effort to protect Catherine, and now….

"They used him to make her feel safe," Catherine whispered. "Just like…."

Rabastan took her hands in his and said, "Alright, so what do we tell the Ministry?"

/-/

As soon as he left his sister in Severus's care, Rabastan went to the Minsitry, where he knew Dorcas and Fabian were both working. He sent them memos upon arrival and asked where they could speak that was private. They had him sent to a secure office used for interrogation, under the pretense of a tour. Once inside, Fabian Prewett sealed and locked the door.

"What's happened?" Dorcas said, pale. "Severus sent word that you'd be coming."

"It's my niece," Rabastan said, sitting down. He was cool externally, but his hands shook. He didn't bother hiding it, not in front of these two. "Her experimentations with drugs have led her by the nose."

"Oh, no," Dorcas sighed. "She's alright?"

"Physically, yes," Rabastan said, watching Fabian cross his arms out of the corner of his eye. Dorcas sat, but her husband did not. "She's going to be taken to France where she and her husband will detox privately. The reason we need your help is…her dealer is dead."

Fabian's arms twitched and Dorcas nodded slowly. They were not stupid. They understood someone – Harry or Sirius or even Severus – had killed the dealer, and now there was a mess to clean.

"Gideon and I will take care of the crime scene," Fabian said softly.

"It's been cleaned roughly, but I don't know what state it's in otherwise," Rabastan said, frowning. "Trouble is, it's their house."

"Damn," Dorcas sighed. "That stupid, stupid girl. Body's there?"

"Mmm."

"Other users?"

"No one who couldn't be frightened or have their memories altered, I understand. Short list, Severus tells me. He said he'd be with Sirius at the house. Catherine and Harry will already be in France when you get there. Narcissa's taking them. They're going to release information to the press as appropriate, once we've a story. Oh, they'll want to move the body, obviously. Have you any ideas?"

Dorcas and Fabian exchanged a glance and he nodded.

"Leave it with me," Fabian said. "I'll have the story in report form by morning."

/-/

Neville was already awake when Hermione came back, and he watched her fish through a stash of potions ingredients.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What's happened? Are they alright?"

Hermione hesitated. She looked up at him with nervous eyes and said, "In the morning, there will be a lot of information running around. It's not true. I'll tell you the truth, but I'll need permission first. It's…it's not my story to tell. Alright?" Neville nodded. "I'm going to be busy for the night, maybe into tomorrow. And I'll need to work some extra hours."

"How long?"

"I don't know yet. But it's for Harry and Catherine. And I wouldn't have agreed if it wasn't important."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Hermione smiled sadly and kissed him. He kissed her back, wondering what could be so upsetting, and why she needed to keep it a secret. With Harry and Catherine, it couldn't be anything simple.

"I love you," she said, smiling. "Just keep being patient. I'll be home when I can."

Neville wished she could give him more, but he wasn't about to argue. He watched her go before he got up and checked what she took. It seemed like she was preparing some antidote. Something to do with mood stabilizing. He was a far cry from a Potions expert, but he knew enough about ingredients to tell.

And she'd taken a whole box of bezoars. Neville sighed, returning to bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been warm under their sheets, before she was called out by Snape. He didn't stay long and didn't say much. He was apparently gathering several people and had much to do. Leave it to Harry and Catherine, as well, to turn everybody's lives upside down, not simply their own.

He rolled over and pressed his face into Hermione's pillow, smelling the floral and slightly earthy scent of her lotion on it. For the moment, he supposed, this would be enough.

/-/

Catherine woke in an unfamiliar room, staring at an ornate ceiling, blinking to bring it into clearer view. She wondered what had brought her here, wearing a warm nightgown, almost swaddled in the soft sheets. She groaned, trying to extract herself from her fabric prison, feeling too hot. She was supposed to be nude if she wasn't in public. Padma wouldn't be pleased.

Padma….

She frowned, trying to remember something important.

"Good," she heard her Aunt Narcissa's voice saying softly. "You're awake. Are you thirsty?"

"No," Catherine croaked. Her mouth was dry, but she wasn't lying. She had no desire for a drink. She tried to sit up, but found it difficult. Aunt Narcissa sat on the edge of the bed and wiped a strand of sweat-soaked hair from Catherine's face.

"What do you remember?"

Catherine closed her eyes. She'd taken a day off work because Padma said it was the thing to do, said she wanted to show her something….

Blood. She could see blood, and a knife, and someone was….

"Harry," she gasped, eyes open again. "Harry killed Padma."

"Good," Aunt Narcissa said calmly. "Your memory is returning. Don't worry, I won't go back to England until we've hashed it all out."

Catherine was too fuzzy still to be anything but astonished and outraged at her aunt's coldness. She clearly didn't understand. Padma was gone.

/-/

"They had a party, you know," Laura Madley said as she watched a very weary Kevin Whitby come back from his rounds. "The Astronomy Tower was just a diversion."

"I know," Kevin said, smiling. "I've seen them do it before. I didn't want Jason to think I was just letting him have the party, though. What kind of Head Boy would I be? And anyway…it doesn't hurt to flatter Natalie McDonald."

Laura's lips twitched and she looked at her fingers, trying not to laugh. She wondered if he realized he was attracted to Natalie, or if it was just something happening to him he hadn't yet noticed. She, at least, was self-aware enough to realize she found Jason Black very attractive, as impossible as being his girlfriend was. Still, Laura could try to set up Kevin and Natalie, at the very least. And all the hours they would work together as Heads would certainly lend itself nicely…

"I think you two should redo the schedule," Laura said, almost chirping the words. "I don't think it's quite right."

"What's wrong with it?" Kevin asked, puzzled and clearly a bit offended.

"Well, putting us with our Housemates?"

"Keeps people from accidentally overhearing someone else's password," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Kevin, Caroline Black chews up Abercrombie and spits him out, as a rule. She needs to be partnered with someone stronger. I'd say Lestrange, but they're cousins."

"She can't be paired with Aeson Lestrange," Kevin said, snorting. "Everybody knows they'd rip each other to shreds just to prove they could do it better."

"I was thinking Brontes, actually," Laura said, smirking. "But if you had her work with Aeson…. Let her have the betting pool. Those two would want to impress everyone with their ability to out-Prefect everybody else. If you've got them working together, then they aren't going to want to sabotage their ability to win."

"No," Kevin agreed slowly. "But they'll cheat."

"They'd cheat anyway. Small price to pay for peace."

He hummed, obviously considering the possibility that it could work.

/-/

Lily tried to fight her tears as she sat in a small brewing lab with Severus and Hermione Granger, examining both Hermione's report and every sample of the drug they could find in the house while they were cleaning it. They even picked apart Padma Patil's lab, trying to find the best way to make something to detox Harry, Catherine, and anyone else who needed it.

The thing running through Lily's head as she worked, however, was it would take more than a few potions to fix the pain Harry and Catherine were surely going through.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine are convalescing in France with Narcissa's supervision, the adults in their lives are hiding the evidence, and a story is being formulated to keep the rest of the world out of it.**

 **Review Prompt: How many chapters do y'all reckon it'll take to heal their emotional pain? Given there's about twenty chapters left.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Was Kitty screaming 'cause she saw him murder Padma, or because it was Padma?**

 **A: Erm, a bit of both. Probably more the latter. She's obviously not too bothered by people killing, given what was done to Karkaroff…**

 **Q: Why isn't Blaise suspicious of what his girlfriend is doing, though, when even a dazed Harry could notice the inappropriate touches? (Guest)**

 **A: Well, remember Harry notices what could easily be interpreted as friendly touches, and they seem inappropriate to him because he knows what Catherine was up to. Blaise wasn't at the event in question, but if he had, he wouldn't have given a thought to Catherine touching Ginny's arm in a friendly way.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	137. The Order's Legacy

**A/N: So, here's Bonus 13! Really enjoying all the lovely reactions y'all have!**

 **-C**

Fabian went over the house with a fine-tooth comb, determined that there would be no signs anything untoward had happened in it. He suspected Harry would want to sell it after this, and if they all did their jobs properly, there would be no issues, no suspicions.

"Everything's moved," Gideon said, eyes dark. "Severus has the girls from the sofa in the next room. He's…covered them. We've got a bit of a puzzle on our hands."

"Yes," Fabian said softly. "Do we make one or both suffer for someone else's sins?"

It was a question no one had yet figured out the answer to. Severus said he'd leave the question up to Sirius and Remus and James, while he and Lily focused on Healing Catherine and Harry. Fabian had felt sick to his stomach when Harry gave them the complete list of those drugged. As far as he knew, apart from those in the house at the time, there was only one more name.

Ginny.

Fabian was letting Dorcas retrieve their niece. Harry thought she'd had limited enough dosage she could be reasoned with, dealt with. Her fiancé understood keeping things quiet, and she could likely be treated at his place, with minimal impact on her daily life.

"I've got it," Remus said, coming in. "We've figured out what to do. Official story is Catherine picked up an illness and it's hit her hard, so she and Harry are going abroad while she recovers. Well, Ryana and Ginny are her friends. They could easily have got the illness from her, and they're both recovering quietly, under Lily's care. She's a certified Healer."

"Parvati Patil?" Gideon asked.

"Her sister's unwilling subject," Remus said darkly. "If she cooperates, she can be trained in the story. If not, well, Severus or Sirius could alter her memory. Memory loss with drugs isn't uncommon. We'll have to move her to the new scene, though, set her up there."

"Don't take risks," Fabian said darkly. "Wipe her memories. I'll run a search for the assailant…. I've got a few open search files. I could tack this onto one of them. The story will slide into obscurity by the end of the week. As for the illness…. I'll leave it to Lily to classify and document, but this should work."

Remus nodded, slipping out of the room. Gideon said he'd be along in a minute to move Parvati Patil. He watched Fabian, though, as he went over the kitchen floor again, looking for traces of blood or hairs. They were removing every trace of the Patil sisters ever having been there.

"Are you really going to do that to her?" Gideon said softly.

"What?"

"Parvati Patil. Just wipe her memories, subject her to Potions, tell her some unknown druggie killed her sister, without any hope of closure or redemption?"

Fabian frowned at the floor, pursing his lips. He wanted to believe he would always do the right thing, as difficult as it was to make such assumptions, in life. He removed a hair and incinerated it, before moving on to the cabinets, searching for blood splatter.

"It's been done before. Rabastan sacrificed his own brother to Azkaban with altered memories. To protect Cara."

"That's different," Gideon whispered. "Rodolphus wasn't innocent, and Cara wasn't a criminal in the strict sense. Who exactly are we protecting now?"

"Harry. Kitty. The Potters and Blacks."

"Is this what the Order has become, Fabian? Are we just a glorified mafia, deluding ourselves on the righteousness of our origin and an occasional search for justice? Are we simply a tool for protecting our children from the fullness of their choices?"

"You don't understand," Fabian said, jerking his head up. "You don't have children! Call it whatever you want, paint it however you like, but I would do all of this and a million times more if it were Rhea in that room, or Cora, or Ourania. And I'd like to think you'd do the same. I know Dorcas would, or the Blacks and the Potters and Rabastan. It's family, Gideon. This is what family does for each other. Has it gotten a little too uncomfortable for you?"

Gideon's eyes were cold as they stared at each other, but after a long moment said, "No, I'll do my job. I'll move the girl and play my part. I'll even keep my mouth shut. Not like I've got a choice. You'd just Charm me into it if I'd said something different, wouldn't you?"

Gideon left the room before Fabian had to say something, which was probably for the best. Fabian continued his meticulous search for blood splatter, and he tried to ignore the nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He knew, without thinking about it, Gideon was absolutely right. Had he said he wouldn't help, or wouldn't keep quiet, Fabian would have used any spell necessary to protect what they were doing. If it made him part of a glorified mafia, well, Fabian had gone too far to turn back now.

He cleaned a few small spots off the cabinets and continued to methodically search the kitchen, knowing Gideon and Remus were taking care of arrangements while Sirius and James practiced the story. They were the ones who would have to face the press, after all. Gideon, Fabian, they'd write a report. Maybe two. A simple matter. They wouldn't have to tell the lie every day, think the lie, live the lie. He only hoped that James was strong enough to hold on to deception, because it was likely to become all they had.

/-/

Ginny was trembling as Dorcas explained everything to her, but she was highly receptive. She agreed quickly to helping test the detox potions, and said she would keep any story they decided.

"Kitty," Ginny said, wringing her hands. "She's been taking it a long time. Is she going to be alright?"

Dorcas hesitated. She wanted to comfort her niece, but she didn't want to lie.

"It's really too soon to say," she said gently. "There's a lot we still don't know, about her condition and about this drug. The best way to help her be alright, Ginny, is to do everything we can on this end to make it easier for her to heal. So just do your job as well as you can, alright?"

Ginny nodded, pacing slightly.

"Ryana?" she asked. "Is she alright?"

"Ah," Dorcas said, paling slightly. "We haven't woken her yet. Her first few doses of detox will likely be done while she's unconscious. From the sound of what Harry said, she's in a much worse way than you are. We'll test on you first, and adjust for her needs from there. We can keep you posted on her progress, if you'd like."

Ginny said she'd like that very much, and then Dorcas had to ask the difficult question.

"Blaise," she said gently. "Do you want to tell him what's going on, or do you want him to get the official story, illness you've caught from Kitty?"

Her niece laughed and said, "Blaise is far too smart not to figure out something's wrong. Don't worry, Aunt Dorcas. He's very discrete. I expect Draco will be in on the official story's push as well. If they can tell each other about things, they've never had a need to talk to anyone else."

Dorcas agreed it would be enough, but they decided to wait until she'd had a round of detox potions before giving him the whole truth, just in case things went poorly.

/-/

Neville made himself breakfast in the early hours of the morning. He hadn't managed proper sleep, just dozing in and out for several hours. He was hoping Hermione would be back, if even for a few more ingredients, so he could get a bit more information, but no such luck. He showered, poured himself some cereal, and settled on the sofa with a book and a blanket. If he just focused on relaxing, he told himself, he might manage to get a bit of proper sleep before she came back, and then she wouldn't worry about him the way he was worrying about her.

He opened to a chapter on the use of mandrake leaf, stewed, in detoxifying potions. She'd taken some mandrake leaf, and he was curious about their properties and uses. He'd thought they were meant to be fairly limited.

Detoxifying made sense, of course. She'd been called out not just to somewhere, not to the Ministry, not to the school, but to Harry and Catherine's house. He'd never asked, never said, but he knew they'd been experimenting with drugs since they were much too young to toy with such things – if there was ever an age for such things. He thought perhaps they'd finally bitten off more than they could chew, and he only wished he could do more to be helpful.

/-/

Aunt Narcissa had helped Catherine shower and dress. Her body was very weak, although she couldn't figure out why. She suspected it had something to do with the strange potion her aunt had forced down her throat, but she'd been too dazed to analyze it as she was drinking it. They were walking down the stairs, through the music room, and Catherine realized where she was as they walked onto the back terrace.

The villa. For some reason, she'd been brought to France.

"You understand why you've been brought here?" Aunt Narcissa asked gently.

"No."

"Your father's idea. Any hint you might be seriously ill, which is the most innocuous story that might crop up, and the press would be climbing all over you. Such a situation could only be loosely contained, and it would be a matter of time before someone found a connection, no matter how careful we are."

"We?"

"Don't try to figure out the network, Catherine," Aunt Narcissa said gently. "Here, have a seat." She helped Catherine onto a marble bench and petted her hair gently. Catherine closed her eyes, feeling the sea air on her face. "It doesn't exist because of you. It's been working on various projects since before you were born. Grown a bit since, but that's the way of such things. What matters is, people who care about you are protecting you. This is going to be painful enough without having the whole of wizarding Britain nosing in your business. I expect your parents will come in a few days, when things have been controlled to a suitable level in England."

"No," Catherine said, feeling a stab of panic in her chest. "No, Daddy can't come. Please, don't let him come. Not yet. I'm not…."

She struggled to breathe, and her aunt said soothing words and prosmised if that's what she wanted, that's what would be done. Catherine nodded, but she felt a strangling mesh of guilt and shame and fear expanding in her chest.

/-/

Astoria sat up as Draco read over a letter, presumably from family. He'd recognized the owl immediately, but she didn't think it was from his mother. Perhaps the Blacks, or the Lestranges. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he suddenly shot up and said, "I need to go to the Ministry."

"What?" she asked, startled. "You have a day off, Draco."

"It's important," he said, frowning. "I…I don't know if I'll be able to tell you later, but it's a family thing. I have some papers to sign. I'll be back when I can, and we can have our day to ourselves. Alright?"

She agreed. He'd been on edge all morning, something about his mother leaving in the early hours, but he hadn't known what it was about. Astoria had a strong feeling it had something to do with his cousins, given the urgency of his response. It seemed Catherine and Caroline always had something to be urgently attended. Astoria stirred sugar into her tea and mused calmly sitting by while her husband sorted other people's messes was likely to become a fact of her life.

/-/

Lily sat with Sirius as Mr. Barker joined them in the Selwyn Manor conservatory. She wanted to be helping Severus and Hermione with the potions, but Severus assured her this meeting was equally important. She stirred tea, offering some to Mr. Barker, who took it with an amused smile.

"I seem to recall that last time," Mr. Barker said softly, "you didn't offer tea."

"Last time," Sirius said darkly, "I wanted you to go away. This time, I need your help. Drink all the bloody tea you'd like."

"Very well," Mr. Barker said, setting down the tea cup. "What is it you need."

"We need a story told," Lily said softly, "the right way, if you understand."

"You want me to lie."

"My daughter," Sirius said, his voice strained, "has…made some…. She is…."

He bit his lip and crossed to the window, cracking it open, lighting a cigarette. Barker raised his eyebrows, and Lily said softly, "Kitty's made some questionable choices, and she's rather…magnetic. It's dragged several others into it. The matter itself is…resolved, however while we're picking up the pieces, we need the press to have no interest. It would only hurt people who didn't…know they were doing anything wrong."

"Where is your daughter-in-law, if I may ask?"

"France," Sirius said, exhaling a stream of smoke. "She and her husband are recovering in France. Officially, she's taken very ill, and she's gone abroad to recover her health privately. A few of her friends have contracted a more minor version of the condition and are being treated locally. Privacy appreciated."

"Friends?" Barker asked, eyes narrowing. "Which friends?"

"Miss Ryana Cotton," Lily said, watching him shrug off the name. She was unimportant enough no one would care. "And Miss Ginevra Weasley."

"Ah, that's going to be the tricky one," he said darkly. "Harpies player, _Prophet_ columnist, engaged to a very wealthy and famous man. The press will be interested."

"Ginny's discrete," Sirius said softly. "And cooperative. As is Blaise. I'm not worried about either of them. Blaise is already doing me a…favor in this matter. He doesn't know the fullness of his fiancée's condition, but he suspects, and he's helping anyway. The question is, can we count on you?"

Barker leaned back, picking up his tea again as he considered the question. He was not a stupid man, and Lily knew if they earned his disapproval, this may have proved to be a greater risk than Sirius anticipated.

"Well," he said slowly, "I'm an historian, not a reporter. I could certainly write up the announcement, and I know it would be covered and respected, but surely it would pose questions."

"We've built a rapport," Lily offered. "With your sensitivity regarding Cara's history. Easy enough to sell, and truthful."

"I suppose the real question," Barker said, "isn't about whether it would be accepted. I know if I say no, you'll wipe my memory and get someone else to do it. You've no shortage of willing and indebted friends in high places, no doubt. My question is, what incentive do I have to do this? It's not necessary for my career. I don't need contacts in your society. My book is done. I've moved on to another period of history, digging into the Grindelwald massacres. Why should I put my research on hold for your damage control?"

"I'll tell you why," Sirius said softly, looking out at the back garden. "This house, Mr. Barker, how old do you think it is?"

Barker raised an eyebrow, looking at the molding of the ceiling. He licked his lips and said, "A few hundred years, anyway."

"The base of the house," Sirius whispered, "the kitchen and the oldest foundations are more than six hundred years old, and all that time, the Selwyns have owned it. Blacks, now, as the Selwyns have died out. My family's home in France? Five hundred years. Grimmauld Place is much newer, but there have been Blacks in London for nearly as long. The property the cottage is on has been in the family for nearly eight hundred years. The Potters are newer blood, but no less significant for it. When you study history, how many times have you needed to study my family tree?"

Barker nodded and said, "I get the picture. Your families are interwoven into the history of the wizarding world."

"Exactly," Sirius said. He finally turned to face Lily and Barker. His eyes were cold, dark. Lily knew he was retreating in on himself, struggling with his anger and fear and guilt, struggling to find the best way to help his daughter for what he saw as his failure to protect her. "And how much of it is real? Any historian worth his salt knows the narrative of the past has been bought and sold by the rich and powerful for as long as history has been kept. You've spent your career sifting through the lies written down by some poor sod who either thought it was true or believed no one would care if he took a bribe and told the official version – someone's official version, anyway. This is your chance to carry in the time-honored tradition, but not in a way to changes the course of mankind. All you're doing is smoothing over the unimportant story of one man's attempt to protect his child from her mistakes.

"I could clear your memory, Mr. Barker, but I don't want to. I'm tired, and I'm numb, and I've played these games for far too long. I could just as easily kill you if you didn't agree, and it wouldn't bother me one way or another. That's the kind of man I've become to make a better life for my children. You know that. The question is, will you allow me to do this the easy way for once, or are you going to force me into things I know I could never tell my daughter?"

Barker's eyes narrowed, and Lily held her breath. She needed this to be resolved so she could get back to the potions. She needed to help Catherine, needed to help her son.

"One condition," Barker said slowly. "And it involves you telling me a secret you'd probably rather never tell."

Sirius's nostril's flared, and Lily dug her nails into her arms, waiting.

"What happened to Igor Karkaroff?"

 **A/N: So, the story is firmed up, there is a pushback and a reminder of just what they're really doing, and recovery begins.**

 **Review Prompt: Since reviews have already started to cover this, just what do you feel SHOULD happen to Harry, as far as justice is concerned? What's the right answer?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Are the adults in their lives going to treat them different because of this? (CieStars)**

 **A: Different? Absolutely. It's like the blinders are off. But it's going to be closer to how they should have been treated all along, instead of wrapped up in glass and given the world's longest leash.**

 **Q: I wonder if Sirius will put some blame on Harry for letting the Padma thing get so far. (Marcytherock)**

 **A: If he puts any blame on Harry, it's miniscule. He knows how powerful his daughter's pull is, just as everyone knows.**

 **NOTE: To my lawyer Guest reviewer – I completely agree with you. And it should make you uncomfortable and unhappy that Harry's going to get off scot free. I hope I've made that plain, but in case I haven't, I wanted you to know I completely agree that it's not right. But it's the way their world still works. That's part of my story for Unknowns – the darkness that surrounds the secrets of the rich and powerful. I find it fascinating and repulsive all at once. Even when it's done with the best of intentions.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	138. Seclusion

**A/N: Here's Bonus 14!**

 **-C**

"And here," Fabian said, reviewing the reports of the official version of Padma Patil's death. Draco signed the spot he missed and Fabian continued the review.

"How was Kitty when you saw her?" Draco asked, pressing his fingertips together as he leaned over his desk.

"Unconscious," Fabian admitted. "They had her taken to France while she was still out cold. Easier if she's not fighting, you know? I think Rabastan called in some favors for an impromptu international Portkey."

"Expensive favors," Draco muttered.

Fabian hummed, and thought it was worthwhile. He knew it wasn't a simple matter, and Rabastan would have used a lot of capital on this one thing, but no one who'd gotten involved in this would question the necessity of removing Catherine from the country, for the time being.

"You've listed you want a potions specialist to handle her treatment," Draco said. "I presume you want Madam Potter?"

"No, Severus," Fabian said, scanning the final page. "Madam Potter is going to have her hands full with a…mysterious illness. Anything else you need from me before it gets filed and you hold the press conference?"

"Give me a small list of cases you believe it to be connected to," Draco said, "just to be safe. Possible connections, tenuous though they may be. Maybe five at most."

"I'll have a list before they stop serving breakfast in the Ministry cafeteria," Fabian said. "Oh, and Draco, I trust you know—"

"I am well practiced and keeping my mouth shut, Mr. Prewett," Draco said coolly, very much his father's son in that moment. Fabian nodded, handing back the report for it to be sent to the Minister, before walking swiftly but not hastily back to his own space. He had enough on his plate with his bother's quiet disapproval. He didn't need to worry about Draco on top of it.

/-/

Rabastan sat with Cara at Grimmauld Place as they waited for her husband. He'd done all he could do for his niece now, and all they could do was wait for news on the elaborate web they'd set. She sat forward as the front door opened, and he raised a hand, stopping her from getting up. He went downstairs and nodded to Sirius, who was trembling as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"How are you?" Rabastan asked.

"I've been better," Sirius growled. "Cat, how's Cat?"

"Worried about you," Rabastan said, grabbing his brother-in-law's arm before he mounted the stairs. Rabastan waved his wand, a quick deodorizing spell to get rid of the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. No need to make Cara worry more than she already was. Sirius nodded his thanks, and they went up to Cara.

She ran into Sirius's arms as soon as they were all in the room, and Sirius pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. Rabastan sat in the closest chair, watching them mildly, trying to decide how things had gone by Sirius's mood. The trembling could mean any number of things, but Rabastan had seen Sirius in worse states than this.

"Barker's going to do the release," Sirius said softly, caressing Cara's hair with a shaking hand.

"How did you get him to agree?" Rabastan asked softly.

"A promise," Sirius said darkly, his shoulders tightening. "It was…necessary, but not pleasant. I just want this day over, and I want to see my daughter."

"Soon enough," Rabastan said. "Patience before passion."

Sirius's fingers twitched at this reminder, but he said nothing. They both understood, they all understood just how important it was to keep to method, even when all he wanted was to be a desperate father.

/-/

Aunt Narcissa left Catherine alone while she went to write a letter, and Catherine stared out the window at the beach. She wanted to walk out into the ocean, but she knew her aunt wouldn't let her anywhere near. She stared at the sand being lapped by the waves and she felt the rhythm of it in her racing pulse, a pulse that hadn't slowed since her first panicked moments of waking in France.

A knock at the door startled her, and she turned to the sound with wide eyes, feeling a rush of dizziness at the sight of Harry. He was watching her with sad, guilty eyes.

"Cat," he whispered, and she flinched at the use of his pet name for her. She couldn't look at him without seeing him holding the knife, jabbing it into Padma over and over.

Harry swallowed, nodding at her response. He simply tried to breathe normally in the doorway before he whispered, "I love you," and he left her alone. Catherine dug her fingernails into her thighs and wondered whether she should go after him and say something. It was the sort of thing one did, but she had no idea what she would say to him. She didn't even know how she felt yet. About anything.

/-/

Ginny watched Hermione do tests on Ryana – still unconscious and wrapped in what looked like a few warm blankets – while she gave Madam Potter a blood sample. Professor Snape came in with a letter and he frowned as he handed it to Madam Potter. She passed him the blood sample and read it over.

"Oh, no," Madam Potter whispered. "Have you told him yet?"

"No, I only just received it."

"Sev, he'll be heartbroken."

Professor Snape said nothing, processing the sample. Ginny could feel her pulse race.

"What is it?" She asked. "Is it Kitty? Has something happened?"

Madam Potter hesitated, folding the letter and passing it back to Snape. She gave Ginny a kind smile and said, "Kitty's okay. She's awake and she's had a bit to eat. She's had her first flushing potion. She's just…struggling a bit with the emotional aspect of things. But that's to be expected."

Ginny nodded, expecting some news on Harry as well, but as he'd had enough presence of mind to set this whole mess in motion, he was probably comparatively fine. His suffering, Ginny suspected, would be tied to Catherine's recovery.

/-/

Caroline had suspected something was wrong when Jason spent the entirety of their Halloween bash in the toilet, but the absence of her father, Uncle James, and Snape at breakfast had sealed the matter. Yes, breakfast wasn't required, and if they chose not sleep in on a Sunday, it was their prerogative, but Uncle Remus looked exceptionally pale, and had a quiet word with Jason in the back corner of the room.

She flagged down her brother as he rushed from the Hall, stopping him before he could rush upstairs and pulling him into an empty classroom.

"It's Kitty, isn't it?" she asked softly. "What's happened?"

"Drugs," Jason said, trembling. "She's alive and she's healthy, but she's going to need to flush her system and Uncle Remus says the psychological impact is uncertain, especially given…"

Caroline nodded. Given Catherine's history of mental trauma. Jason finally broke down, collapsing into a nearby chair and shaking violently. Caroline just held her brother, smoothing his hair and reminding him their sister was strong, and everything would turn out alright.

She only wished she believed completely.

/-/

Lily set aside her work when Sirius came to check in, and she pulled him into the next room, sealing the door. Ginny had been a bit too curious for Lily's liking, and although she was well-meaning, Sirius's privacy was important to Lily.

"Severus said you've had word from Cissy," he said, gripping her hands.

"She's physically well," Lily said. "The news on that front is encouraging. She's emotionally about where we thought she'd be, and only time will tell how she heals. But I'm afraid I have some…uncomfortable news."

He nodded her on impatiently, squeezing more tightly.

"When Narcissa told her that you and Cate were planning to visit, Kitty panicked. She expressly said she couldn't see you."

"What?" he said, his face contorting in despair. "Why can't she see us?"

"No, Sirius, not both of you," Lily said gently, touching his cheek. "Just you."

His lip trembled and he shook his head, turning his face away. Lily pretended not to see the tears gathering in his eyes as he pulled his hands from hers. His left hand twitched toward his face, but he crossed his arms jerkily, perhaps to keep from wiping his eyes, or reaching for a cigarette. She wanted to touch his shoulder, but it was the wrong thing to do.

"I don't understand."

"She's in a lot of pain, Sirius."

"Then I should be there helping her," he snapped. "She's my little girl, and she's hurting, and I need to be there to fix it!"

"Sirius," Lily said gently, "give it a bit of time, alright? Sev and I are going on Saturday to give her some potions and check on her condition. I'll talk to Harry, and he can talk to Kitty and Narcissa, and we'll see how it goes. He might be able to get her reasoning, or he may convince her to change her mind. Does that sound okay?"

His jaw twitched and she knew he wanted to say no, but he jerked his head in a single affirmative motion before storming out of her lab.

/-/

Fabian sat in a press conference about the scene discovered and processed. Draco Malfoy was on his left, Gideon on his right.

"Auror Fabian Prewett," a blonde woman from an Irish publication said, standing, "it's my impression Miss Patil's twin was also found at the scene."

"That is correct," he said.

"Could you say a little more about that, please?"

He lifted his head slightly and inhaled deeply.

"Miss Padma Patil was using her sister to experiment with her product. At the processing of the scene, we found Miss Parvati Patil unconscious, indisposed, and upon examination we found she has significant mental and psychological damage from the experimentation. A competent and qualified Potions Master is seeing to her health and condition, and is assisting us in our inquiries about the drug."

"There's no doubt," a man from the _Prophet_ said, "Miss Patil was killed by a disgruntled user?"

"No doubt whatsoever," Draco said, and to Gideon's credit – Fabian thought – he did not even twitch at these words. Perhaps because, at the core, they were true.

/-/

Rabastan locked and charmed the door of his study. He'd hidden the sculpture he'd been making for Catherine as soon as he knew details of what had happened. Rabastan hadn't wanted to chance Sirius finding it, and sure enough, his brother-in-law was in his study, pacing.

"You can't smoke in here," Rabastan warned, "but I'll pour you some brandy."

"Please."

He poured two glasses, passing one to Sirius, simply holding his own.

"Kitty doesn't want to see me," Sirius admitted. "I sell my soul all over again, and she won't see me."

"Who have you killed this time?" Rabastan asked, working very hard not to sound amused.

"It's not about that, it's about promises," Sirius said urgently. "The arrangement with Barker, I've agreed to give him the whole, complete story of not only this, but of Karkaroff – basically, all of Kitty's difficulties, and any future ones. A kind of exclusive, to be published when Kitty deems it appropriate and benefit to society outweighs the harm. We've done Unbreakable Vows, Rabastan."

At this, Rabastan nearly dropped his glass. He didn't ask when Karkaroff happened, but he had a pretty good idea Severus was involved in…disposing of him. And this whole fiasco…. Who wouldn't come out looking just a bit dirtier for it?

"History's a harsh judge, indeed," Rabastan said softly. "All choices look simpler in the clear light of day. Mistakes are obvious, wrong turns made clear, and all the ambiguities and subtleties of living in a situation are swept away with the lens of hindsight. You didn't have to make the deal, though. There would have been another way. Why bother?"

"Because," Sirius sighed, "it's what Dumbledore would have done. We can't hide from our choices forever, can we? How is anyone ever going to make different ones if we don't display all mistakes for history? Besides, I spent the freest, happiest times of my life distancing myself from the history of my family. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I behaved just liked them when it suited me?"

"You're only like this to protect the ones you love," Rabastan whispered. "If all men were as principled as you—"

"Then duels for honor would still be commonplace and I expect every street would be filled with blood," Sirius said with a snort. "I'm a relic, Rabastan. I was forced off my path, but I lost the way on my own. The least I can do is give my children a compass. I just…need to see her."

"You will. Catherine loves you, Sirius. There's never been a day of her life where anyone could have doubted. She protects you the same way you protect her – well, not in means and method, but in principle. She never wants to see you suffer, so she covers her tracks and keeps things that might hurt you locked inside. Do you honestly believe she has no memory of what Igor did to her?" Sirius twitched. "She needs some emotional space. When she's sorted things out, she'll see you. There's nothing in the world she wants more than to know you still love her."

/-/

Catherine woke in the middle of the night to the sound of humming. She thought, for a moment, it was in the room with her, but it couldn't be. She sat up, pulling the sheet about her, forgetting she was wearing a nightgown. It took her a moment to remember she was in France, that she was recovering. She held her breath to try to hear where it was coming from.

The humming was outside, she realized, and she crept across the room to the doors. From her angle, she couldn't see anyone, but she was sure someone had gone outside. The sound was halting and unpracticed, but not unpleasant. She opened the door to her balcony and she stepped out onto it, looking down at the beach, then to the terrace. No sign of anyone.

The sound began again, to her left, and she looked across the side of the house, to another balcony, down in another wing. She held her breath at the sight of the mussed-up hair fluttering slightly in the sea breeze.

Harry looked at her as he hummed, and she tried to place the song. She couldn't think of the name, but it was important to her, to them. He hummed a bit louder, and she realized where she knew it from. She closed her eyes and she was in his arms, twirling and laughing as everyone watched. The song they danced to at their wedding, with his eyes so full of adoration, and promises made.

When she opened her eyes again he was already stepping inside, to whatever room he was staying in. Catherine felt the urge, again, to say something to him, to follow him, but she still didn't know what she would say, and she felt just as numb as before.

/-/

Sirius sat on a window bench in his quarters, staring out at the forest. He'd almost lost both his daughters in that forest, and he was pleased Jason had enough sense to only bend rules that wouldn't get him killed.

He decided, in that moment, God could not exist. No deity, benevolent or otherwise, could possible believe he'd not payed his dues. Suffering to this measure without provocation was clearly a random matter. The measure of all his sins was a handful of sand beside the desert of pain he'd waded through.

He knew Lily and Rabastan were right: he needed to give Catherine time and space to recover, he needed to allow her to patch things up with Harry, to understand her situation and accept it. But he couldn't sleep, he had no appetite, and he'd smoked sixteen cigarettes to completion in the past day. Sirius had never been a patient man, but he'd employed patience when necessary. Now, he was tired of waiting around for the things he needed to shape themselves. He needed to see his little girl.

"Ah, fuck it," he spat, putting out his cigarette on the stone sill.

Severus would find out if Sirius tried to arrange a Portkey. Cara would know if he attempted to fly there. And what would he say if he arrived and his little girl wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't see him? Narcissa wouldn't let him upset her, but he wasn't sure he would manage to control himself if she turned him away.

No, better to wait, even if he tore himself apart while he waited. Better he pour more suffering on himself than on Catherine.

/-/

"It's all settled," Rabastan said, handing Severus the paperwork for the Portkey. "I'll arrange more as needed. I've heard air travel can be expensive. I know Sirius would pay for it, but…he's not fully himself."

"I know," Severus said, frowning. "He's not eating. Our colleagues are attempting to force food down his throat. I believe if all else fails, Remus plans to knock him unconscious and drag him to Poppy so he can have food give to him in the form of potions, if necessary. I'd prefer compelling him with spells, but Minerva reminds me this is illegal."

Rabastan would have laughed, but he knew Severus wasn't joking. He simply nodded and walked Severus out to the gates.

"Delia is worried?" Severus asked.

"She believes Catherine's ill," Rabastan whispered. "Even Adra's distraught. They've never made up, you know, from whatever petty foolishness separated them in school. I don't think they've spoken since Hogwarts. I doubt I'll ever tell them the truth. Catherine's made mistakes, but everyone deserves a bit of dignity."

Severus just hummed and took his leave at the gates.

 **A/N: So, Catherine doesn't want to see Sirius, she doesn't know what to say to Harry, and Barker agrees to spread the story.**

 **Review Prompt: D'you think Sirius will wait it out, or try to find some way to get to France?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What is this bond connecting Catherine and everyone who cares about her that lets them know if something is wrong? (Guest)**

 **A: It's not the same for everyone. With Severus, it's residual from the contract. With her parents, it's that parental bond. You know, the way your mom always knows when you've done something you're not supposed to. With Remus, it's animal. Draco's was more increasing irritation because of what she'd said to him at Luna's award ceremony. As for Jason…. His is a little more involved, and that would be spoilers for Part 3, but just think ancient magic.**

 **Q: Is it out of loyalty and love to Catherine that [Harry wasn't] voicing his concerns? (Pebbles7092)**

 **A: Partly. There's also the programming from Padma, and his own reaction to the drug. He was fighting a LOT of things when he shirked the drug and fought back. It was NOT a simple thing.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	139. The Gilded Cage

**A/N: Here's Bonus 15!**

 **-C**

Narcissa let Severus and Lily into the villa gates and whispered, "Harry's in the second floor sitting room, and Catherine's in her bedroom. I'll take you there, Severus."

Lily left to find her son before Narcissa stopped speaking, and Severus closed the gate. He gestured for her to lead, and then he followed her into the house and up the grand staircase.

"How is she interacting?"

"Says about ten words a day to me," Narcissa whispered. "I don't think she's spoken to Harry at all. Takes her meals in her room, and only goes outside when she sees he's not there. I think she'd prefer if I didn't watch her so closely, but I'm a little concerned about her. I don't think she's suicidal, but I've see her eyeing the ocean, and she isn't holding her silverware right. I've taken to having the elf cut her food for her. She had a panic attack when a knife was brought with her first dinner."

Severus hummed. He pulled out a box of potions and Narcissa had a quick flashback to her pregnancy, showing Severus the little box of potions her Healer told her to take, and having him examine each one.

"Flushing potions on the left," he said softly, "glass stoppers. Detoxifying potions, the best we have for the moment, on the right with the corks. Flushing at night, detoxifying in the morning, but after she's already eaten. Half a dram of each, until I give you different instructions. I'll be checking in as regularly as possible, and bringing improvements as they come."

"Of course," Narcissa said, keeping a mental note of how much and when. She would make a physical note while he was with Catherine, knowing he'd want a private conversation with her. "I'll be in Sirius's study, end of this corridor and on the left, when you've finished."

He kissed her hand and went into Catherine's bedroom.

/-/

Ginny smiled mildly as she touched Blaise's arm, nodding to indicate she wanted some more water. He poured it for her as Ron and Luna sat across the table, eating happily.

"Luna hinted you got a new job, Ron," Ginny said smoothing her skirt. She'd taken her detoxifying potion that morning and it had given her terrible stomach cramps. Hermione had apologized, but until Madam Potter and Professor Snape returned from France, there wasn't anything she felt comfortable trying on her own.

"Yeah," Ron said brightly. "I've been given a great deal of trust by Fred and George. They've put me in charge of the Hogsmeade branch. I think they were thinking Godric's Hollow, but decided I didn't have the necessary subtlety to avoid breaking the Statute for Secrecy. Somehow, George thinks he's the subtle one. Oh, he wanted me to ask how you're feeling. Heard you caught a mild case of whatever Kitty's battling."

"Yeah," Ginny said, holding her smile as she brushed hair out of her face. "It's, erm, uncomfortable sometimes, but I've got a relatively mild case and Harry's mum's taking good care of me. And before you ask, I don't know how Kitty's doing except she's hitting the recovery targets they're setting."

"Rumor has it someone else has it, too," Ron said, before shoveling another sandwich in his mouth.

"Ryana Cotton," Blaise said, as though it were nothing. "Heavier case than Ginny, far less than Catherine Potter. She's the primary case they're using for study and containment, I understand. You may not see much of her for a bit."

"Didn't see much of her anyway," Ron said with a shrug, before continuing on his sandwich.

Ginny let out a small sigh and smiled weakly at Luna, whose eyes were full of concern. Ron was, thankfully, marvelously simple.

/-/

Lily checked her son's blood sample while he lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling and biting on his lip. She could see he'd bitten it hard enough to draw blood a few times without healing it properly.

"She hasn't said a word to me," he finally said, while she took note of the various factors in his blood. "She'll look at me sometimes, when she doesn't retreat right away. But whenever I try to speak, whenever I say her name, she shrinks away."

"It'll take time, Harry," Lily said, encouraged from the test. "I've got a box of potions for you. I may not always be able to make it when there's a visit, but Severus will bring enough for both of you any time we have an update."

He gave no sign he heard her, just traced his fingers along the fabric of the sofa.

"I think I lost her, Mum," he whispered. "I did what I could do, but I did it too late. I don't think she loves me anymore."

Lily blinked rapidly, setting the box of potions on the table, pulling out a slip of parchment to write instructions. If she said them now, he'd just forget them, anyway.

Between Harry and Sirius, she was torn. Harry had fought off Catherine's demons, sacrificed so much, even brought her back to where they were married, and yet she wouldn't say a word to him. Sirius had gone through hellfire countless times now just to keep his daughter safe, and she'd expressly said she didn't want to see him. All Lily could do was hope Severus could get through to her, figure out what to do, because Lily couldn't stand to see Harry and Sirius suffer like this, and it couldn't be good for Catherine, either.

"I don't believe that," she whispered, setting the instructions on the box. She stood, then knelt beside the sofa and smoothed her son's hair. She remembered holding him the first time, thinking how beautiful his cry was. Now, he was like his father, like Sirius. When his eyes began to water, he turned his face from her. "Kitty loves you. She's just…fighting a battle no one else can take over, and it's going to take some time."

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice tight, constrained in the top of his throat, the base of his nose.

"Just love her. No matter what, never stop loving her."

"I never could," he said, and his hand reached for hers. Lily curled her fingers around her son's, and she kissed his knuckles, wishing the simple gesture could heal everything her potions could not.

/-/

Cora slipped into the chair by the fire, forcing Jason to scoot over to make room for her in the massive armchair. He didn't look at her, didn't speak to acknowledge her, but there was no way he could not know she was there. She rested her head on his shoulder and whispered, "There's more, isn't there?"

She'd heard the story. Mrs. Catherine Potter taken ill with an undisclosed condition, taken abroad to recover and under the care and attention of a highly qualified Healer. Several of her friends had contracted lesser versions of the illness and were being cared for discretely and competently in the context of their daily lives. An official story if Cora had ever seen one, full of half-truths and "all is well" platitudes to say something had happened without allowing any question of what really happened. Case closed before it ever opened.

"There always is," Jason whispered, but he gave no more information. Cora didn't need to know, just long as she knew he was doing alright. But she supposed she'd asked him enough for one night. She simply let him wrap an arm around her as they watched the fire.

/-/

Catherine stood at her balcony door, open but still standing in her bedroom, staring out at the sea. She heard Severus Snape enter, even sensed his presence to some level, but she did not turn and she did not speak. He said nothing for a long moment, standing near the other door, watching her.

Finally, the silence could be borne no more, and he said softly, "What were you thinking, you foolish girl?"

A violent shudder passed through her at the chastisement, but she didn't speak, didn't turn. She continued to stare at the sea, but without seeing it.

"After everything your father has done for you," he said, coming closer, "everything I have done, everything Remus Lupin has done, and you try to throw it all away, and for what? Drugs? Sex?"

"Stop," she whispered, her voice cracked and weak, like dead, flaking skin.

"Had I known you would still be a spoiled, selfish child all these years later," he said with an obvious sneer, "I might not have bothered arranging the end of Igor Karkaroff."

"Stop it!" she shrieked, turning and lashing her arms at him. They'd taken her wand – Aunt Narcissa kept it somewhere – and so her arms were all she had, but he grabbed her wrists and looked at her with wide, knowing eyes. She hated him in that moment, almost as much as she hated herself.

His black eyes searched her face, intense but somehow gentle. She tried to pull herself free, but he didn't let go of her wrists.

"You do remember, don't you?" he said softly. "I've long suspected. You remember everything."

"I always did," she said, feeling her body begin to tremble.

"Why lie?"

She looked down at her bare feet, and he repeated the question. She hadn't lied to Harry, the only person she felt fully free with. Now she didn't feel anything, and she knew it wasn't right.

"Daddy was in such a state," she whispered. "It was…easier to let him believe I didn't have to carry that. Better. He blamed himself, and it wasn't his fault."

He hummed, the sound reverberating between them, seeming to echo in her chest.

"And you sought to manage your pain with what, drinking? Drugs?"

"I just wanted to numb myself," she whispered. "I…I tried to explain to Harry. I just wanted to feel it was okay not to be in control, for a little while. It was…harmless. I dialed it back when Jason said he was worried, when Caro was injured."

He didn't ask which time Caroline was injured. Either he somehow knew, or he didn't care. His hold on her wrists relaxed and he said, "Catherine, when Padma Patil offered this drug, why did you take it? If you were dialing back, why take it?"

"It was safe," she said, feeling a small rush of euphoria and desire as she thought of Bliss, of Padma. "She gave me a list of ingredients."

"Amounts?"

"No."

"You know better!" he said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him. Catherine felt small, but it was warming to see his concern, his frustration. He cared in a way she could process and understand. She didn't know how to process the things Harry said and did. "I taught you better."

"I trusted her."

He sighed.

"So, she gave you a little bit, took advantage of your mental state, and convinced you to exchange sexual favors for more of the drug."

Catherine hummed. It sounded sordid when he said it, but it hadn't felt so at the time. It had all been exhilarating, wonderful, like she was more alive than she'd ever been, without the weight of worries or memories or monsters.

"And then she somehow convinced Harry to join in, partake of the drug, and then she had you both under her thumb. If that boy didn't love you more than his own life, Catherine, I don't want to begin to imagine where you would be right now."

"He killed her," she whispered.

He let go of her, taking a step back and frowning, and she still somehow felt like a small child being chastised. Catherine looked up at Severus and frowned. She nibbled on her lip, as if awaiting judgment.

"If there was one thing knowledge of your mother's past should have taught you, it's sometimes killing is a necessary evil. Your mother killed for your father, and your father killed for your mother, and they would both have killed for you, if necessary. I have killed for you. Now your husband has killed for you. And here you sit, pouting in an en suite apartment in a villa by the sea, not speaking to the people who have sacrificed the most for you and mourning a woman who manipulated your suffering for her pleasure and gain."

"It wasn't like that," she insisted.

"Then what was it like?" he prompted, as though asking her to list the ingredients that couldn't be safely mixed with armadillo bile.

Catherine wished she knew how to explain, wished she could make him understand so he could help her make sense of everything. But she couldn't even explain it to herself.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, reaching for her cigarette case, but frowning at her empty pocket.

She knew he could tell her, as Aunt Narcissa had told her, Harry was effectively giving up his Quidditch career to be here however long it took for her to recover. He dropped everything, and had been willing to even go to prison so she would recover. He threw everyone's lives into chaos so she could recover.

Instead, after a long pause, he whispered, "Why won't you see your father?"

Catherine turned quickly to face the water again, frowning out at the sea. He put his hand on her shoulder, but he didn't force her to turn again. He simply stood behind her, his strong hand surprisingly cool through her sleeve.

"Because," she choked out. "I can't let him see me like this. I know he's already ashamed of me, that I've failed him. I couldn't stand to…to see that look in his eyes. He's always been so proud of me. It's enough to know I hurt him."

Severus sighed, and she was surprised when he slowly nudged at her shoulder, coaxing her to turn around. When she did, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never been brave enough to hug him, even when she desperately wanted to in her darkest moments. His whole presence was steady as he held her tightly, and she rested her head on his chest.

"Your father," he said, his voice higher than usual, tight, "loves you more than anything in the whole of the world. He could never be ashamed of you, and you could never fail him. And the only thing hurting him right now is how he wants desperately to hold his daughter the way I'm holding her right now, and for reasons he doesn't understand, she refuses to see him. You foolish, foolish girl."

Catherine closed her eyes as her throat constricted, and she felt his lips touch her hair as she began to tremble once more.

/-/

Lily was still with Harry when Severus entered Sirius's study. Narcissa was frowning at a photograph he couldn't see, and he asked if she would walk with him.

"Catherine?" she asked.

"She is sleeping," he said softly. "I gave her a very mild sedative, with her permission."

Narcissa followed him onto the terrace, and she crossed to the rail, looking out at the sea. Severus stood beside her, watching the water. He wondered what Catherine saw when she stared at that body of water, but after everything she'd confessed, he was afraid to find out.

"She has bottled up her thoughts and fears for years now," he whispered. "She became trapped in them, in a sense, and she fell into the drug as an escape."

"And became trapped in something else, instead," Narcissa said, frowning. "I suppose we're all trapped in something."

"What is your cage, if I may ask?" he whispered.

Her lips twitched as he turned to look at her, and he felt an exhilarating fear of what she might say.

"Lucius's desperate grip on the way things used to be," she said, frowning. "Many people in my life didn't know how to let go of our history. That was always Sirius's brilliance, his ability to move forward from a dying way of life."

Severus swallowed, wondering if she would return the question. After several deep breaths, in and out, he asked her, "If you could have shed the cage…."

Narcissa's hand gently covered his on the rail. It was warm and thin, gentle and graceful. Her thumb caressed the back of his hand and she whispered, "If I had shed the cage, the whole world would be different. It's through my husband's influence and position I have done all the things I have for my cousin, for his children, for Remus Lupin, for you.

"And I cannot imagine a life where I would not have married Lucius. Whatever his faults, whatever his flaws, whatever his limitations, I have always loved him, Severus."

She smiled up at him tightly and said, "As much as I've tried to follow Sirius's example and move forward from a dying past, I do regret not seeing you happily married."

Severus lifted her hand to his lips and let go, taking a step back.

"It was always an impossible endeavor, I'm afraid," he said, staring into her gray eyes. "My cage, you see, is always falling in love with the women meant for someone else. No, don't say anything, Narcissa. As tiresome and stress-filled as it has been, I have found watching over Sirius's children to be a surprisingly fulfilling life goal. I only wish I…could have prevented this."

Narcissa smiled and shrugged, glancing back out at the sea.

"As I told Sirius some time ago, we cannot protect them from themselves. Should he visit soon?"

"She's not ready yet," he said, thinking of how small and weak her body had felt in his arms as she tried not to cry. "I believe she should reconcile with her husband first. She needs something she can feel accomplished in before she will be ready."

"He'll be devastated."

"Perhaps. I will try to help him understand."

They watched the water together for some time, wanting to give Lily as much time with her son as possible before the Portkey back to England would activate, and she would not see him for some time.

 **A/N: So, Severus gets some response out of Catherine, Harry expresses his deepest fears to his mother, and Narcissa and Severus have a quiet heart-to-heart…**

 **Review Prompt: Alright, I confess, this is my favorite chapter I wrote for the whole bloody story. So, if you had to pick thus far, what's your favorite chapter or scene or plotline? And why.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What was the news Lily found? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Okay, sorry if I didn't make this clear enough. Lily's horror when she read the letter was Narcissa saying Catherine didn't want to see her father. And for those of you who have speculated – Catherine's NOT pregnant. As one reviewer aptly pointed out, she and Harry haven't had penetrative sex for a VERY long time.**

 **Q: How long will it take to rebuild their relationship? (Pebbles7092)**

 **A: I won't say exactly, but it measures most efficiently in months, not years or weeks.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	140. Meconopsis betonicifolia

**A/N: Here's Bonus 16! It's been a couple of months now. Let's check in on our situation, shall we?**

 **-C**

The ballroom of Selwyn Manor was decked as usual. Most of the usual faces were present – bar Narcissa, Severus, Harry, and Catherine, who were in France – but Rabastan could not feel any sense of Christmas cheer. His wife was talking to an oblivious Lucius Malfoy by the drinks, and Cara was carrying a conversation with Remus Lupin. Rabastan crossed to the Potters and whispered to Lily, "Where is he?"

Her neck stiffened and she whispered back, "Retreated to his study shortly before you arrived. I don't think it's Christmas to him without Kitty. She hasn't even written him yet."

Rabastan bowed his head slightly to James, kissed Lily's hand, and retreated the ballroom, placing his glass on a side table on his way out.

Sirius was not in his study, but Catherine's bedroom. He sat on the edge of her bed with a glass of champagne, staring at the floor. He didn't look up when Rabastan entered, standing just inside the door, leaning on the frame.

"She and Harry used to sneak off during parties and come up here," he whispered. "They'd drink and smoke, and eventually they started fooling around. I didn't see it for a long time, and when we saw, we said nothing. Harmless fun, we said. Nothing worse than anything we'd done at their age. That's what young people are supposed to do, right?"

Rabastan didn't speak. He came in and sat beside his brother-in-law. He took the champagne from him and downed it in one. Then he held out his hand and Sirius looked up at him, frowning with confusion.

"Your cigarettes," Rabastan said.

"What for?"

But Rabastan just held out his hand, waiting for Sirius to relent as he knew he would. Sirius had felt weak since Catherine left for France, and Rabastan counted on that for what he was about to do.

As soon as the box – not even bothering with a case now – was in Rabastan's hand, he dropped it on the floor and flicked his wand, lighting the whole box on fire. It was a rapid, vicious flame, and Sirius yelped in surprise and mild outrage before it burned out and only the ashes of the box of cigarettes was on the floor.

"I'd have smoked it myself," Rabastan said dryly, "but I do have my own health to consider, and I've always found those things disgusting." Sirius deflated slightly, looking down at his hands, and Rabastan continued, "If you want to inspire your daughter to be better, to make better choices, Sirius, you need to start thinking about your own choices. Normal is relative, and her life is not your life. You cannot judge Catherine by the metrics you've used to judge yourself. And even if you do, I doubt very much you could look me in the eye and say you've been proud of all your choices."

Sirius sighed, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. Rabastan decided to give it a while before attempting to coax him back downstairs, if not cheerful, then at least present for the sake of his other children.

/-/

No alcohol at the villa. Narcissa's rules, not that anyone would have dared suggest otherwise. Severus had brought a large supply of potions for both Harry and Catherine, and he and Narcissa were looking after the pair of them as best they could for the duration of Severus's break from Hogwarts.

"I'm tempted to force them together and charm mistletoe over their heads just to make them speak," Severus grumbled as Harry and Catherine sat on opposite sides of the sitting room from each other. Catherine was staring out the window, Harry staring at Catherine. Severus muttered, "But then, that's a very Albus Dumbledore thing to do, and I do not want to become him in my old age."

Narcissa smiled and said, "You're far from your old age, Severus. I doubt it will take mistletoe, when all is said and done, but I do wish I could see them speak to each other. Soon."

She was certain she'd heard Harry crying in his sleep, and she knew he was beginning to lose hope. Severus just nodded, and excused himself to attempt to draw Catherine into conversation, as he did three times daily, like clockwork.

/-/

Ron sat down with Luna, offering her another piece of fruitcake, but she shook her head. They'd been invited to Selwyn Manor, but as Catherine was not there, Luna had suggested they decline. They were just getting settled in a place in Hogsmeade, and she'd been troubled lately.

"Did you send Catherine a gift?" he asked. "I thought about it yesterday. I don't recall if she was on our list or not."

"I did," Luna said, reaching up to trace her fingers through his hair. He leaned down to kiss her. "I sent her a very large packet of her favorite chocolate and a book on animal livers in potions."

"Charming combination," Ron said, frowning as he considered this. "Could have just sent her a box of Bertie Bott's."

She hummed and smiled, leaning up to pull him in for more kisses. Ron sighed into his wife's mouth and thanked Merlin she'd talked him into a quiet Christmas. It had given him the idea to set up an evening of spoiling her, culminating in seducing her. He'd made dinner, did the washing, even enjoyed her light teasing that perhaps he ought to let her do the cooking from now on, unless he was cooking takeout.

"I've drawn you a bath, love," he said, tracing his fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"Oh?" she said, eyes widening slightly. "Are you sure you haven't drawn _us_ a bath?"

He groaned against her lips and thanked Merlin again before carefully scooping her up in his arms. She was light, but not light enough it didn't take some effort to carry her. Still, he didn't care about the slight straining not to drop her, and he carried her to the bath as quickly as he could steadily go.

/-/

Catherine returned to her bedroom, deflated. She knew Harry hated her, now. No gift, she thought as she turned the doorknob. Not even a silly little trinket of folded paper. Never in all her life had they had a Christmas where Harry hadn't given her a present, even when they were children and fighting. She blinked back tears and opened the door.

Her breath caught as she saw her bed was covered not only in her sheets, but in dozens upon dozens of beautiful blue blooms: a small bed of Himalayan blue poppies. No card – she didn't need one. Aunt Narcissa didn't know her favorite flower, and as sweet as he'd been, Severus would never do this.

She crossed to the bed slowly, and picked up one of the soft, delicate blooms in her hands, cupping it there, feeling the smooth petals tickle her fingers. Her face spasmed under a wave of guilt and she closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet, floral scent.

Catherine coughed over the strangling sob trying to escape her. She didn't deserve him, and she never had.

/-/

Jimmy held Cora's hand, knowing she was getting a bit bored of him trying to find excuses to lead her under the mistletoe, especially in front of her father and uncle, who were watching like hawks. The atmosphere wasn't as bright as Christmas at Selwyn Manor usually was, but Jimmy always enjoyed himself at parties with Cora.

"Jason," she said, leading him over toward their friends. "Have you heard from your sister?"

"Not directly," he said, looking down at his champagne. "I expect it's hard for her to write much at a time. Aunt Narcissa says she's improving, but it's slow going. We don't know when she'll be well enough to come home."

Cora expressed her wishes for Catherine's speedy recovery, and Jimmy shuddered slightly. He couldn't imagine how frightening it would be, falling so badly ill that she had to be taken to another country to convalesce.

"Hey," Dennis said brightly, "your dad's back."

They all looked up at Professor Black, who had entered the room again, greeting people all over, as though arriving for the first time. He was smiling a tight, forced smile, but even that caused an instant lifting of the spirits in the room.

/-/

Caroline made a point of letting go of Damon's hand and crossing to her father. She knew she was a poor substitute for her sister, no matter what her parents believed about their not playing favorites, but her father still looked so uncomfortable. He smiled a little more naturally when she held out her hands to him, and he kissed them gently, with warm lips.

"You look beautiful, Caro," he said, leading her over to the food. "Happy Christmas, darling."

"Happy Christmas, Daddy," she said, wrapping him up in a hug he eagerly returned before they helped themselves to food.

/-/

Draco walked into the back garden with Brontes, leaving Astoria to chatter the ear off Madam Potter about potions.

"I need some advice," Brontes said, folding his hands behind his back, as his father sometimes did when he was anxious.

"I'll do my best," Draco said, nodding him on.

Brontes glanced back over his shoulder, to where Caroline's friends were standing in a little circle, talking and laughing.

"I know your father didn't…wholly approve of your courtship with Astoria. At first."

"Yes," Draco said, his lip curly wryly at the memory of how his father had tried to tie him to Catherine.

"I have a girl I…desperately want to court. But my mother will certainly not approve."

"Blood or money?"

"Both."

Draco hummed, glancing back at the group. Miss Zeller, he supposed. He knew little about the blonde girl, other than she was attractive, charming, reserved, and supposedly very intelligent. Muggle-born, and certainly not remotely as wealthy as the Lestranges, but not a bad option, all told.

"My advice, Brontes, is to not allow ancient customs from a dying past, as my mother would call it, to keep you from something you know you want. If you want to court this girl, court her. And you say your mother wouldn't approve, but your father will always support your choices. You make good ones. Trust in that."

/-/

Astoria slipped her hand into Draco's when he returned inside, and she raised a questioning brow, but he shook his head in a way telling her he'd explain later. He kissed her hand and said, "Perhaps we should take our leave of the host and hostess."

"If you think it best," she said, trying not to look too amused.

They weren't leaving to do anything uncouth, of course. They had a standing drinks invitation from Blaise and his fiancée for the night, who wished to avoid crowds while Ginny was recovering. Not that Astoria would have termed this soiree a crowd, but better safe.

They strolled over to where the Blacks were having a quiet discussion, and Draco bowed his head slightly to his mother's cousin in respect.

"We are going to leave," he said, taking Madam Black's hand and kissing it, allowing Professor Black to kiss Astoria's hand in kind. "We have another engagement to make while the night is still young enough."

"Of course," Professor Black said, shaking Draco's hand firmly. "Draco, it was good to see you. Astoria, you look lovely as always. And I…" He inhaled sharply through flared nostrils before he said, "I cannot thank enough for all you've done this year."

Draco nodded sharply and said, "My pleasure. I would do it all again, a hundred times."

"I'm grateful."

Astoria slipped her arm into her husband's and glided out of the ballroom with him, feeling a shiver down her spine. She wondered what all he had done for his cousin, how much Draco's mother was still doing, somewhere in France. She'd never been especially fond of Catherine, but the longer the woman was away, the sorrier Astoria felt for her. Not because she believed the official story of illness, but because whatever had truly befallen her this time, it seemed those closest to her were concerned this time, she would not fully recover.

"He seemed melancholy," Astoria said off-hand.

"He's in pain," Draco said softly. "I only hope she relents soon."

"Relents?"

Draco smiled sadly and said, "He's not been to see her since she left for France, and not by his choice. We shall leave it at that."

/-/

Blaise caressed Ginny's hair. Some nights were worse than others. She would wake, dazed, muttering, and she didn't want to see him. She would try to leave, try to find Catherine, and he would have to calm her, reminder her. Madam Potter had suggested Cheering Charms in extreme cases, as Ginny wasn't severe compared with Cotton and Catherine.

He kept it up his sleeve, but he tried not to use them. It was like giving a junkie a tiny hit of their drug of choice.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, hearing her turn the page.

Blaise felt somewhat responsible for the whole mess. Against his better judgment, at times, he'd supplied a young Catherine Black with weed, altered weed, alcohol…much like he was supplying alcohol to her siblings for parties, now. If he'd said no….

But he knew it wasn't really his fault. He'd been able, at least, to test Catherine's supply was safe. Had she been supplied from someone else, she wouldn't have peace of mind, and she'd always be able to find someone else. As this whole mess had proved, there would have been people queuing up to supply drugs to her.

"I'm thirsty," Ginny sighed, leaning her head back into his chest. "D'you want something?"

"What are you having?"

"Cup of tea."

"Sounds good. I'll have one, too, if you don't mind."

He licked his lips as she set her book aside, standing and crossing into the kitchen. He'd said to Draco just the night before that he hated keeping it from her parents, but they knew she was "ill," they didn't press. They wanted her to have a quiet night in this year, whatever the reason.

So why did he feel so guilty, when he knew he had nothing to shame himself with?

/-/

Narcissa poured a glass of wine once their recovering couple were gone to bed.

"You shouldn't have this here," Severus said, frowning at the small bottle, only good for two glasses.

"I grabbed it when I was grocery shopping and disguised it," she said with a wink. "I know my cousin's daughter well, I know what she'd look for. And anyway, she doesn't go to the kitchens, ever. Doesn't like being away from windows for any length of time. I thought it would be nice."

He hummed, touching his glass to hers before taking a few sips. She closed her eyes lazily.

"They'll heal," she said softly, determined. "If I have to sit them in a room until they speak to each other, they'll heal. I will not allow for Catherine not reconciling with her father, not if I spend my whole life mending the breech."

Severus said nothing, which was probably for the best.

/-/

Ron pulled on his pajama shirt, watching Luna slip into bed. She'd been subdued this Christmas night, more subdued than her usual, but he'd certainly enjoyed every minute of their time together. He had a thought they could do something similar for Valentine's Day, and he had quite a bit of time to plan.

"I'm boneless," Luna sighed, motioning for him to join her, which he did, pulling off his slippers and crossing to their bed. "I've had a lovely night."

"I wasn't sure you'd like it," he said, curling up beside her, pulling her to him. "I'm not the greatest cook."

"No, you're not. But you're good enough at other things, we can overlook it." She kissed his jaw. "As I said, next time let me cook, unless you're cooking takeout."

"Yes, love," he said, kissing her lips, enjoying how they were soft and warm and pliant.

For the tiniest moment, and for the only time in his life, he imagined what his life would have been had he somehow managed to woo Catherine all those years gone. Complicated, certainly, a whirlwind of demands and expectations he'd never be able to reach. He would be a side-thought in her glamorous life, and never have control. He didn't have Harry's power and strength of character.

No, he was much better off, he decided, kissing Luna again. A quiet life, but a good one. Low-key, but well-lived. He could still surprise his wife, please his wife, do little things and not feel they wouldn't be enough. And whatever Catherine was, he couldn't deny Luna was beautiful, and he was exceptionally lucky.

"You're too good to me," he sighed, pulling her closer before kissing along her jaw.

"Rubbish," she chided, burying her fingers in his hair. "We're quite perfect. Doesn't matter what each of us is separately. Together, we're perfect."

/-/

He was asleep when she crept into his room. She just wanted to see his face, to attempt to puzzle out the way he looked and how she felt. Catherine held her breath as she watched him in the moonlight, attempting to keep quiet enough not to wake him.

Harry's eyes opened and he looked right at her. She knew he didn't see her, not really, not without his glasses. But he stared at her, taking even, steady breaths.

"Cat," he said, and her fingers twitched, but she didn't back away. Slowly, he sat up, and she was still holding her breath. When he was nearly sitting straight he said, "Happy Christmas, Cat. I love you."

An ache burned at her ribs, but she said nothing. The ache was from holding her breath, surely. She exhaled slowly, staring at him, but she couldn't speak. As much as she desperately wanted to tell him something, she didn't know what it was. She licked her lips, and she turned and walked away.

 **A/N: So, Sirius is bullied into his own kind of detox, Harry and Catherine continue their difficult wordless healing, and Ron decides he's the happiest man in the world.**

 **Review Prompt: Was Rabastan too hard on Sirius, or was that exactly what SOMEONE should have done?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What exactly is the foundation of Harry and Kitty's marriage? What can they build on? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: I know it's not always clear with Catherine. Think back to when Caroline said to Damon that she loved him, that she wanted to be sure he knew, even though she didn't always say it. Catherine is much the same with Harry. She loves him and adores him, and that's why Padma knew it was necessary to have them both under her thumb, because if she'd tried to completely isolate Catherine from Harry, especially at the beginning, it would have broken Catherine out of her control. As Cara began to say, Padma used Harry to make Catherine feel safe and secure, the way the Death Eaters used Sirius and Cara's love for each other to control them. It's a little different, but it's the same basic idea.**

 **They can build on this, but they have to learn to communicate better first. And I don't just mean better than right now, but better than they did before Padma. Harry needs to express his own desires, and Catherine needs to be more upfront with what she feels and what she needs so they can make informed choices about how to proceed together. First, though, they need to get over the guilt and pain and shame.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	141. Thaw

**A/N: Here's Bonus 17!**

 **-C**

Natalie nodded as Kevin ran through the new duty shifts for Prefects. He'd made some quality points about having Caroline Black and Aeson Lestrange keep each other in line. She hated to encourage gambling, but she knew Caroline well enough to believe it could be an incentive.

Provided the teachers didn't find out she and Kevin had given the girl carte blanche.

"There was something else I wanted to speak with you about," Kevin said, clearing his throat. "If you've got a moment."

She glanced at her watch. Cora and Jason weren't expecting her for another twenty minutes.

"I can spare a few," she said, signing the new assignment to be given to the Headmistress. "What's on your mind?"

"Are you busy this weekend?"

"Erm, not sure, why? What's this weekend?"

"Well," he said, his voice tight, "I was sort of hoping it would be my first chance to ask you on a date."

Her head snapped up and she searched his face, wondering how she hadn't noticed. She thought him attractive, certainly. All the qualities she'd appreciated in Jason when they first started dating, but without the weight of family history suffocating their interaction. She knew they worked well together, from their time thus far as Heads. He was intelligent, fastidious, and she strongly suspected he knew about the party Jason threw for Halloween, but didn't tell on them and played along with the goose chase she sent him on.

"Oh," she said, licking her lips. "Well, I'm…flattered. I'd like that. I'll check and get back to you? I honestly don't remember if I've made plans or not."

"That's fine," he said eagerly, his light brown eyes glowing with his smile. "Let me know. I've not planned anything what couldn't be shifted to a different day."

/-/

Kevin ignored Laura's teasing as he floated into the library with her, barely able to think about the research they were supposed to be doing. He knew he had a lot of work to focus on, and responsibilities, and Quidditch on top of that, but he couldn't think of anything but how pleased he was Natalie McDonald had agreed to a date with him.

"You look ridiculous," Laura teased. "Cora Prewett and I were talking about it the other day. I've found out why she broke up with Jason Black, if you want to hear it."

Kevin hesitated.

It should have been none of his business. A Gryffindor would have been chivalrous about it, said a lady's past was her business, and he wouldn't snoop in it. She'd tell him if she wanted him to know, and that was that.

But he wasn't a Gryffindor, and he was terribly nervous, and so he asked Laura to very quietly tell him anything that might help him plan his wooing of Natalie.

"They were pretty well compatible for the most part, but…Jason's got a bit of his father in him that has come out more as he's gotten older," Laura said, shrugging.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, the wealth of his family was always going to be something hanging over their heads, wasn't it? But then his sister was getting into all kinds of trouble, and he would cover for her. You know, there's turning the occasional blind eye and there's the kind of forced ignorance Jason's gone through for his family. Cover-ups, official stories, that sort of thing. Well, it's hardly secret anymore, Professor Black is an expert at it from his time in the war. I don't think it was the sort of thing Natalie wanted to marry into."

"No problems there," Kevin said, sighing with relief. The biggest difference he'd observed between himself and Jason Black was his life was relatively uncomplicated. If complication was the trouble before, perhaps this was a sign.

/-/

Adrasteia Lestrange sat in her bedroom, frowning at the magazine in her hands. She wondered, vaguely, what she'd done with her life. The friends she thought she had in school no longer spoke to her, except at major events, and then she got the sense it was all for anyone who might be watching. Her marriage prospects were thin, and not at all what her mother had wished for her. She barely spoke to her brothers, and she knew she'd never be her father's first priority, as he seemed to constantly pour his time and energy into Aunt Cara and her family.

And now, Catherine's illness made Adrasteia realize her childhood friend, the person she had most admired and envied growing up, was going through something Adrasteia couldn't begin to understand, and they hadn't spoken in years. They were cousins, and they'd not spoken in years.

She tossed the magazine aside, inhaling deeply. The same publication had done a spread the year before on Catherine's public appearances wardrobe, and how to dress like Catherine Potter. She ran a high-end apothecary in Birmingham, lived in a dinky little house in the Midlands, and yet she had spreads in magazines about her wardrobe, the whole world watching for news she was recovered and returning from France.

And Adrasteia hadn't even wished her well in her recovery.

Opening her eyes, she crossed to her writing desk, which had been used very little of late. Occasionally, Astoria would deign to send her a letter, probably out of pity or charity. Otherwise….

She began to draft a letter to Catherine, but found it difficult to know what to say, where to begin. Obviously, wish her a good recovery. Express concern. Inquire about her condition? No, her father had made it clear no one was to ask about it.

Apologize?

Adrasteia didn't know exactly what the apology was for, but somehow it felt right to include one. And she was sorry, in a way. Sorry their time in school hadn't been what they'd envisioned as children. Sorry she'd allowed a gulf to build between them. Sorry she'd taken so long to reach out.

She wasn't sure what she'd done wrong, but somehow, she knew it was her fault. The letter would take a few tries, probably, but Adrasteia didn't have anywhere else to be.

/-/

Harry sat in the music room, staring at the front gardens. He still remembered his first visit to the villa, when they were children. He remembered seeing Catherine's legs, finding them fascinating. He'd told her she was skinny and pale, and she was. He hadn't told her she was beautiful. But she was. He closed his eyes and imagined her in the attic of the Grimmauld Place house, a little bit of sunlight streaming over her like a heavenly glow as she smiled at him. The little moments when he fell in love with her. When she cared enough to tease him.

"Harry?"

He was even imagining her voice now, he thought bitterly. This was how bad it had become. He had to imagine her speaking to him. How long before he had to accept he'd lost her forever?

"Harry?"

Footsteps.

He opened his eyes and blinked up at her, standing across the room, near the piano. A white dress, loose and long, but all he could see was her face, watching him. Had she really said his name? Had he imagined it?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Were you sleeping?"

"No," he said, forcing himself to be calm. This could still be a figment of his imagination, but he wasn't going to spoil it, either way. "No, I…was just remembering. Did you…. Do you need something?"

She nibbled on her bottom lip and shook her head, looking down at his feet. He held his breath, wishing he could reach out and touch her, feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her hair, the way her thin frame felt wrapped in his arms. He would give anything to be on the beach out back again, wiping a bit of sand off her back and teasing her. If he could do it over, he'd tell her she was beautiful, every single bloody day of his life. He would have said he loved her every minute from when he first realized, he would have never given her a need to touch a bottle of alcohol, much less the other things she turned to.

"I never thanked you," she whispered. He waited, not sure what she would thank him for. "For the flowers. They were…beautiful."

He swallowed the tightness in his throat. Christmas. A poor Christmas present, but the best he could give her, under the circumstances.

"I wish I could have given you more," he said softly.

She shook her head and said, "It's what I needed." Her eyes finally looked up at his, dark and deep and lonely. He wanted to touch her again, and his hand twitched, but he restrained himself. Talking wasn't forgiveness. Talking wasn't proof they'd moved forward. "Thank you, Harry."

He nodded, leaning forward slightly. He wanted there to be more, wanted to tell her everything he'd been bottling up since they came to France, but she seemed to be on the verge of something, and he didn't want to ruin things, not again.

But she sighed, nodded, and began to leave the room.

"Cat," he whispered, and she hesitated in the archway, not turning. He swallowed the tightness again. "I love you."

Her hands twitched. He desperately wanted her to turn, at the very least, but she simply lingered a few moments longer on the threshold before she walked away.

He deflated, relaxing, closing his eyes again. He played it over, and over, and over in his mind as he resolved not to be discouraged. She'd spoken to him, and this meant all hope was not lost. Perhaps, given time, she could love him again.

/-/

Catherine folded her legs under her, staring out at the sea. The desperation in Harry's eyes was visible, even though he tried so hard to mask it. She'd enjoyed talking to him, but she couldn't stop thinking she'd ruined his life, she'd driven him to killing someone. And at the same time, she couldn't stop feeling anger and fear when she thought of what he'd done.

"Time for a dose," Aunt Narcissa's voice said, but Catherine stayed on the balcony chair, not moving. "Catherine?"

"He should hate me," she whispered. "I've ruined his life."

Aunt Narcissa sighed, bringing the dose, mixed into a glass of water as prescribed, onto the balcony. Catherine took it without comment.

"Catherine, you are his life."

"I've ruined me, too," she said, closing her eyes tightly. She quickly drank the dose and water, shoving the glass back to her aunt and feeling another wave of guilt. "I can barely face him. How in the world am I going to face Daddy?"

"When you're ready," Aunt Narcissa said gently, petting her hair. "When you're ready, you will, because they love you. And you love them."

/-/

Natalie slipped into the seat beside Kevin in the Great Hall, and he started. She smiled to herself, wondering what he'd been thinking about, but she was too afraid to ask.

"Saturday's free," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

In truth, she'd had plans to do some revising with Jason on Saturday, but when he sussed what she'd been asking for, he quickly told her they could reschedule to a different time, even if he stayed up after hours to do it in the Common Room. It seemed he and Cora already knew Kevin had been planning to ask.

"Great," he said brightly, and a bit breathlessly. "Great, so…meet in the Entry Hall at, say, six?"

She nodded. Natalie told herself not to get her hopes up too much, as she had only previously dated Jason, and Kevin would have nowhere near Jason's connections and knowledge of the school. He was straight-laced, and she couldn't imagine him breaking rules to impress a date.

Still, there were other things. She returned to her friends at the Gryffindor table.

/-/

Severus arrived at the villa at his usual, appointed time, and he was surprised it was Harry who greeted him, and not Narcissa. He'd not spoken to Harry on any of his visits, even at Christmas, but the word had been Harry was well enough, considering his wife was not speaking to him.

"Is Catherine alright?" Severus asked, assuming Narcissa's absence had to do with some minor emergency.

"She's…much the same," he said, frowning. "I…needed to ask your advice. You know Cat better…perhaps better than anyone."

Severus's neck stiffened as he considered his once-engagement to his protégé. She likely still had his mother's family ring. He'd never asked for it back, and she hadn't offered it up. Not like he would need it, anyway. In many ways, it was right for her to keep it.

"She finally spoke to me," Harry said rubbing his eyes. "She thanked me for the flowers."

"Flowers?"

"Christmas."

Severus still didn't know what this meant, but he nodded Harry on.

"I feel like something is keeping her from me, something important, but I haven't got a clue what it is. Every time I can, I tell her I love her, but I know it's not enough. I'm afraid to touch her in case it ruins all the progress I've made, but what if that's what she needs?"

Severus sighed, closing the gate, and gesturing for Harry to walk with him up to the house.

"I believe the problem at the moment," he said, "is Catherine does not know what she needs, or what she wants. And the only thing you can do, as frustrating and painful as it may be, is to give her time, but not necessarily space. If saying you love her isn't enough, then show her. Think about how you won her in the first place. She's not so different than she was then, just…wiser."

Severus took his leave inside the doors, giving Harry his box of potions and going upstairs to find Narcissa and have his semi-regular talk with Catherine. Perhaps they were finally making progress.

/-/

When Rabastan came back from tea with his sister, Delia was waiting for him outside his study. She watched the question in her husband's eyes, but she was too smart to come right out and tell him what she wanted. He'd expressly forbid her to talk about Catherine's illness, but Delia knew there was something important he wasn't saying.

"No," he said, seeing her question. "I will not discuss it. When I said Catherine needs her privacy, that is all-encompassing, especially with what happened the last time I told you something against my better judgment."

"Did that really work out so badly?" Delia said, her stomach knotting slightly at her husband's insinuation of distrust.

Rabastan's nostrils flared and he said, "Good or ill, Delia, if I cannot trust my wife to keep a confidence, the result hardly matters. I shall be busy. I have letters to write. Do not disturb me."

Delia tried not to feel that he'd shut the door in her face, but it stung as though he had.

/-/

Narcissa walked Severus out to the front gate and waited for him to speak. Catherine's doses were lowering, and he mentioned privately Miss Cotton was conscious now, and asking to see Catherine.

"The trouble," Narcissa said, "is her emotional development. Harry told you he had a short conversation with her?"

"Yes," he said, frowning. "He doesn't know what to do, and somehow thought I would know. As if I ever understood how to express myself to a woman."

Narcissa swallowed, looking away. She wished she hadn't been selected to care for Catherine, but it would have been a lot to ask of Cara, and Rabastan was not a logical choice. Still, the requirement of truth that was on her and Severus in this situation was more than she had anticipated. Some things were better left buried.

"Catherine doesn't understand how he could love her," Narcissa whispered. "After everything. In some ways, they're so much like Sirius and Cara, but in others…. I don't think Cara ever doubted his love for her."

"Catherine doesn't doubt," Severus said softly. "She doesn't feel worthy, but she doesn't doubt. I have half a mind to bring her father here despite her objections and make him hug sense into her. But she'd never forgive me."

"She would," Narcissa said softly, "but it's not her father she has to spend the rest of her life with. And she already knows her father's love is unconditional. The struggle she is having is with how to approach her husband, and rushing everything else before they sort things out could ruin their marriage."

She knew Severus didn't care as much about Harry's side of things, even with residual fondness for him, but he did not want Catherine to be unhappy in her marriage. Narcissa knew he considered Catherine in many ways as much his own child, and all he wanted for her was happiness and success.

"I'll keep working on it," she said, kissing his cheek. He pulled away with a jerk and took her hand, kissing it gently, lingeringly.

"Some traditions," he whispered, "are an appropriate reminder of my proper place."

"Sev."

"No," he said, opening the gates and walking away. "We've made it all very clear, Narcissa. There's nothing left to say. What we need to focus on now is Catherine. Let me know if there is any change, and I will keep you posted on our progress with Miss Cotton. Ginny Weasley is nearly entirely cured, with a few small sleeping problems her fiancé has reported."

Narcissa nodded and said her goodbyes. Blaise would be keeping a good eye on Ginny Weasley, and Miss Cotton was under near-constant supervision by Hermione Granger, Lily Potter, and Severus. She only wished she had another of herself to manage Catherine and Harry more effectively.

 **A/N: So, they've spoken but not reconciled, Natalie and Kevin are going to have a date, and Adrasteia is going to try to bridge the distance.**

 **Review Prompt: How does Harry show her, when telling her isn't enough?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How did you come up with this story? (Emmy)**

 **A: That's…a very interesting question. I don't know that I could say quite plainly. The first part, Sirius and Cara's story, was a dream, a recurring dream I was having. And the more time I spent in the AU, the simpler it was for the story to keep unfolding for me. The more I live with them now, even as much as I've written, I still see various aspects clarifying, different people's stories becoming more plain in either the forward or backward directions. In writing the sequel and the third part, I understand Sirius and Narcissa's childhood and their extended family more thoroughly, and Cara's childhood became shockingly clear for me as I was plotting Part 3. I guess you could say it's still in progress, even as I edit. I don't change anything big, but I see knew things, which is why I'm now contemplating an eventual fourth or even fifth part. Because I see the other stories that branch off.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	142. Melt

**A/N: Here's Bonus 18! We're now about four months on from the incident with Padma…. If that helps put this into perspective for anyone.**

 **-C**

Catherine pretended she didn't know what day it was, and Aunt Narcissa hadn't said a word, but there was no escaping Valentine's Day. New country, new house, but they couldn't run away from everything. She half-thought Harry would do nothing, or do something big, but she wasn't sure if she was afraid or excited to see what he wanted to do.

She sat on the beach, wearing a long skirt, not thinking of how she would clean off the sand later. She was surprised, mildly, when Harry sat beside her, but she didn't turn, didn't speak. She just breathed and felt him looking at her, his eyes grazing her body before he moved just a bit closer.

"Good morning," he whispered. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," she whispered. She licked her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear as a breeze picked up.

Harry took out his wand and quickly conjured a few Himalayan blue poppies, passing them to her. She thanked him again, and was surprised when he moved some of her hair off her neck. Catherine turned to look at him, and he had a restrained longing in his eyes, startling her.

"Wish I had some chocolate," he said with a wry smile, "but your aunt said no. Can't argue, she's done so much for us."

"Yeah," she said, feeling an ache she couldn't classify in her chest. "You were my secret admirer with the chocolate in school, weren't you?"

"Of course. Be honest with me, Cat," he said, looking down at the flowers. "Will you ever…forgive me? Will you ever be able to love me again? Because if you can't…" His nostrils flared and he closed his eyes tightly. "If you can't, I won't say that's fine, but I want you to be happy. So, if you can't…."

He pursed his lips and he turned away, and Catherine didn't know what possessed her, but she touched his chin, stopping him from turning completely. His eyes opened and he reached up to touch her hand.

"Harry, I've never stopped loving you," she said, feeling the warmth of his fingers caressing the back of her hand rhythmically. "I want…. It's not forgiveness. I just can't…." She sighed. "I don't understand why you would want this after everything I've done. I've ruined your life, Harry, and mine."

"No," he said, pressing his forehead to hers in a strange fit of boldness. "No, Kitty, nothing that lets me be with you is ruining my life. And I will do anything, anything in the world to bring make you feel like you have control of your life again. Even if you don't want…. Even if we can't be together the way we were, I need to be with you, Cat. You're the only thing in my life worth having."

She exhaled, and with the breath she seemed to feel poison drawing out of her, and she turned to him, letting go of the flowers, letting them tumble to her lap, and letting her hands rest on his chest.

"I want to try," she said. "I really want to try. I don't know what it would mean or what it would look like. But I don't think I could manage life without you, Harry."

He hesitated, but for once, she finally felt she knew what he wanted. She also realized if they were going to move forward, in any way at all, it was in her hands. She sighed, shifting so she could press her lips to his. He took the encouragement, reaching up to touch her neck, caressing her skin, letting his hand glide up into her hair. The kiss was over more quickly than she would have liked, and he pressed his face into her neck, letting her pet his hair.

"I love you," he sighed. "I love you so much."

/-/

Ginny knew Blaise preferred going out to fancy restaurants, showing her off and dazzling people with their affluence and beauty. He was a bit vain, and not in a way that bothered her. But since her treatments, Ginny wasn't fond of crowds, and he'd not even suggested going out for Valentine's Day. Instead, he made them dinner – a talent he loved showing off – and set up the table with candles and flower petals adorning it. Harry's mother had suggested avoiding wine until her treatment was complete, with the promise it nearly was, but Blaise mixed cranberry juice and sparkling water.

"Thank you for this," she said, smiling as he slipped his hand in hers. "I…know this hasn't been easy. And I never planned for any of this. We've had to make a lot of changes, and I know it's not what you signed up for."

"Of course it is," he said, kissing her hand. "I sighed up for you, so whatever comes with, it's what I want. My mother's the one who needs to readjust. She's still annoyed I've put off the wedding date."

"We didn't have to."

"D'you honestly not want to have champagne at your wedding?" he said, smirking. "Don't worry, darling. We can set a date when you feel recovered and they've given you the all-clear on medication. There's no rush. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a party to celebrate what we already know. We are meant to be together."

Ginny smiled and relaxed, nodding as he kissed her hand again. There was nothing clear about the future, but knowing Blaise didn't resent her was a great blessing.

She decided she was just going to enjoy the food and not worry about anything but how they were going to spend the evening. Other things could wait for the next day.

/-/

Laura sat with Jason Black and Dennis Creevey, watching the couples go by. She hadn't ever expected to become part of Jason's clique, but in setting up Kevin and Natalie, they'd grown a fair bit closer.

"Your cousin," Dennis said, grinning, "was waxing lyrical to Cora's little sister again about how Stewart's not good enough for her."

"What's wrong with Ackerley?" Laura asked, frowning.

"Nothing, really," Jason said with a shrug. "Aeson's argument is he's not exciting enough. It's an arguably valid point. But we suspect Aeson's got a thing for her. Too proud to just out with it, of course. Runs in the family. Except Brontes. He's alright."

"Where is he, by the way?" she asked, smiling. "I thought he ran with your set these days."

"He does, but sometimes he vanishes," Jason said with a shrug. "Brontes and I have never been inseparable the way other pairs in the family are. Or were." He frowned, touching his pocket absently. "Anyway, how about another round for everyone? My treat."

/-/

Damon slipped his hand into hers, and Caroline felt the cool Scottish air rushing around their enclosed hands. She wanted to tell him she was worried about her sister, but she never liked to burden a relationship with openness. The beautiful thing about Damon was he knew everything without her having to say. He understood her better than anyone else in the world, and she flattered herself that she understood him much in the same way. He lifted their hands to his lips, kissing their intertwined fingers with his warm, pale lips.

"Bit chilly for a picnic this year," he said, "but I'm thinking if we do some warming charms, we could make it work."

"Sounds good," she said, walking closer to him. She liked to imagine they were walking along a deserted estate, to a secret place where no one would ever find or disturb them. A safe place.

As it was, they just went to the foothills outside of Hogsmeade, their usual place once they were old enough to go to Hogsmeade on select weekends, and he laid out a blanket, setting out the picnic basket and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I've brought an extra blanket as well," he said softly, "if you'd like it."

Caroline sighed and cuddled up to Damon, nodding. "You think of everything," she said happily.

/-/

Astoria set the tea down and watched Draco rub at his forehead absently, not looking at the tea or anything else in the room, and most likely thinking about his work. He'd been terribly preoccupied of late, and restless whenever he came to see her.

"You miss your mother, don't you?" she asked gently, stirring sugar into his tea, the way she knew he liked.

"Hmm? Oh," he said, frowning. "Yes, I suppose I rather do. Her counsel's always been invaluable. I find the more responsibility on my shoulders, the more I rely on her as a solid, dependable ear. But Catherine needs her more than I right now, obviously. I'm only sorry she can't be in two places at once."

Astoria passed the cup to Draco and he hummed his thanks.

"You know I'm always here," she said, and he finally lifted his eyes to look at her. "I recognize I don't have the life experience your mother has, but I do know a thing or two, and it might be a good idea for us to start building a partnership of sorts. I do have relatively sage advice, for what it's worth."

His lips twitched and he nodded. She knew something he was troubled by was something he couldn't discuss with her, and she suspected it had to do with his cousin, but she knew discretion, and she waited patiently for his decision on whether he could trust her with any secrets or not.

"You're right, of course," he said after a few sips of tea. He set the cup down and nibbled on his lip. "It's nothing too serious. I just don't like having to…clean up after my cousin all the time. Her life is a bit of a storm coming through. She does her best, really, but she's always had the world after her."

"Tragic beauty," Astoria said softly. "Everyone wants a piece of her."

"More than you know," Draco sighed. "And it's not just the beauty for some. Her family, her wealth, her position in society. Well, you know our world. She's brilliant but she's not…. Well, she's strong, but it's a lot for one girl to take, and she's been poked and prodded and chipped away at so long. I just wish I could fix it all for her."

"Draco," Astoria said, smiling sadly, "the only way she can have any of it fixed is if she learns how to cope with it. None of it's going away, so she needs to find a method of dealing, and that's personal. It's nothing you could do for her."

"I know," he said, picking up his tea again. "But I wish I could."

/-/

Severus stood in the music room of the villa and he bowed his head slightly as Catherine stood before him, almost the assured young woman she'd been a year before. Her posture wasn't as straight as it had been, and she didn't quite meet his eyes most of the time, but she'd much improved.

"I apologize," he said, watching her face carefully. "I hadn't expected to interrupt anything. I should have thought."

"Why would you?" she said, smiling sadly. "We've barely spoken for months. Still, I think we're moving forward now. I think we can mend it, and that's something I hadn't been sure of."

"I'm glad to hear it," Severus said, although glad didn't begin to cover it. Relief was closer to the truth. "I hate to press, Catherine, but your father…?"

She hesitated, taking a glance at the piano, perhaps for something to look at.

"Not yet," she said slowly. "But…soon, I think. I just need to process some things. He's not upset with me?"

"Never," Severus said. Upset, yes, but not with her. He kissed her hands and she smiled at him, and for a moment Severus was reminded of the mischievous young girl he'd been almost-engaged to, who toyed with everyone and laughed at the whole thing. When life was still an amusement and true consequences were something for mere mortals.

But by the time he stood straight again, the laughter in her eyes was gone, a flash of a beautiful past burned out in an instant. Severus wished he could capture flames of such a flash like one caught bluebell flames in jars, if only to remind her.

/-/

Delia unlocked her husband's study – something she'd never before done. She preferred to save her capital for serious matters, not show her hand. The sculptures out were the usual sort, houses and cathedrals and all manner of buildings. But this was not what he'd been working on in the cold hours of morning when he thought she was sleeping.

She opened a cabinet in the back, moving away the silk covering.

Although unfinished, the resemblance was obvious at once. Not his sister, that would be the wrong timing, and it wasn't the sort of gift Cara would appreciate. She was not a vain woman, perhaps the only woman in the world deficient enough in vanity to find little pleasure in such a gift.

Catherine.

It was striking, certainly. Catherine had always been striking, like her mother, even as a child. Delia had long wondered whether Rabastan's devotion to his half-sister weren't something to do with an unfulfillable attraction to her. His father had been attracted to her mother for her beauty and fragility, after all. It wasn't such a strange idea Rabastan would be attracted to Cara for her beauty and fragility, even if he hadn't inherited his father's brutish ways. She wondered, staring at the sculpture, whether he wasn't a bit attracted to Catherine, now, especially since she'd taken ill. For all her father's temperament, Catherine had always been a strange combination of beauty and fragility, in her way.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Rabastan said softly, and Delia froze. "But there's me underestimating you, again."

She swallowed.

"What's wrong with Catherine Potter?" she asked.

"None of your concern."

Not illness, then, not in the strictest sense of the word, but Delia had ascertained as much. She held her breath, afraid of her next question, but knowing it needed to be asked if she was ever going to find peace in her marriage.

"Are you in love with your niece?"

/-/

Stewart had a feeling very early in the date, Ourania wasn't listening to him. She was usually attentive enough, likely a residue of her best friend being so demanding of attention. He tried not to monopolize the speaking time, and usually he felt he'd done a good job, but today she was somewhere else from the start.

"This isn't working, is it?" he asked sadly. She looked up at him with an almost guilty expression, and he knew what she was about to say. "No, don't bother. It's been a really nice time, Ourania. I promise. But I'm not stupid, and I know when I'm not wanted." He kissed her hand and she winced, and he sucked in a breath like the blow to his pride had been physical. "I truly hope you find what you're looking for."

She said nothing as he walked away, and this was probably for the best.

/-/

"Does it matter?"

Amazing how when the air was stiff and still, those words seemed to echo around her, and Delia dug her nails into her arms, horrified.

"How could it not?" she asked, finally turning to face her husband. "Regardless of how loosely or closely she's related to you, she's a child, Rabastan!"

His face was still inscrutable, and she felt bile rising in her throat as he took a small step forward.

"Hardly," he said.

"Perhaps now," she argued, taking a step back, not sure what to make of him. "But she's not been an adult very long. And you loved her mother as well, didn't you?"

"Does it matter?"

Delia wanted to hit him, but physically and magically, he was stronger than her. And she knew better than anyone what an expert he was at hiding. Hiding for others, hiding for himself, hiding for his family. He sacrificed his own brother to Azkaban and death because of his secret love of his half-sister, and now she was terrified to think what he was doing because he was secretly in love with his niece.

"I can still love you, Delia," he said softly, almost gently, "and be in love with someone else. You know that. It's fairly common, in our set."

"As disgusting as some of the men in our set are," she said, backing up to the wall, her hand falling on a windowsill, "it's not common for them to fall in love with relatives _quite_ so closely related."

"I've never laid a hand on either one," Rabastan said darkly, "and I never will, and I never would. Unlike my father, Delia, I have self-control. I express my love and desires in making sure they have every possible happiness in life, and if it means lying to the government, well, Lestranges have lied to the Ministry for far less for hundreds of years. Covering up a few deaths? What's that to someone in our set? They weren't even people who mattered! They were scum."

She swallowed, eyes wide as she tried to shrink away. He was slowly crossing the room, crossing to her, and she saw a wildness in his eyes that had never, ever been there before.

"Do you know what it's been like, watching people hurting them?" he whispered. "My father started it all, but my sister-in-law carried on the tradition admirably. The Dark Lord, Barty, Igor after the war, the last Minister, the bloody list going on and on. They needed my help, and I've given them everything I possibly can, and I would do it over, and if I need to I will do it over. Do you understand me?"

Delia said nothing, staring at this man she'd spent her life with and wondering how she could have gone all these years and not seen.

He turned, and was nearly out of the room when the question slipped off her tongue before she could stop herself.

"Do you think of them when you make love to me?"

She could have kicked herself for asking, but he didn't turn around. He only hesitated a moment in the doorway.

"Does it matter?"

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine are healing admirably, Ginny and Blaise are on the right track, and Delia's discovered the inkling that gave rise to half of Part 3.**

 **Review Prompt: Alright, how do you feel right now?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Was Severus in love with Cara at any point? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: No, sorry if I wasn't clear. Severus's cryptic conversation mentioned loving women meant for someone else. That's Lily, obviously, and not Cara, but Narcissa. Sorry if that wasn't clear. No, obviously, there was someone who was quietly in love with Cara, but it wasn't Severus.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	143. In Health

**A/N: Here's Bonus 19! There's more to come, but I'm going to bed after this one's up. I'm already past my bedtime…**

 **-C**

Harry was afraid of playing with fire, but he couldn't seem to stop, just as always where Catherine was concerned. When Narcissa went to write some letters, Catherine coaxed him into her bedroom with kisses, and he'd been helpless to refuse. He tried to resist when she unbuttoned his shirt, but once she pulled off her dress, he knew he couldn't possibly leave.

They were on the bed, kissing. He pressed hungry kisses to her body, and he ached to bury himself in her, but perhaps this was too far, too soon. The last thing Harry wanted was to lose what they'd managed thus far, but if she was ready, he didn't want to stall. He was torn, kissing back up her body, lingering at her neck as their skin seemed to melt together.

"I want something, but I'm afraid to ask," he said softly. "I don't want to…hurt you."

"Ask," she said, tracing her fingers in a delicate, delicious pattern along his shoulder blades.

He swallowed, deciding it was now or never.

"I want…I want to know if it's alright for me to…penetrate."

The word flashed through her eyes in a dark cloud and he knew they'd hit a wall for the moment. He quickly said never mind, it didn't matter, he just wanted to hold her, but she turned away slightly, obviously thinking over something. He was terrified she'd send him away, that he'd ruined everything.

"I don't know," she said. She chewed on her lip for a moment. "Harry, I know it's important to you, and I know it's probably important for me, but I just don't feel…"

"If you're not ready, Cat, we don't have to. I don't want to press you for anything," he said urgently.

She leaned back against the pillow, and he held his breath, waiting for whatever words she was about to say.

/-/

Rhea had to talk Colin into it, but he was pleased enough to get the marriage taken care of. So, it was a piece of paper. Their parents could dote when they were back in England, and no one ever need know they married in a registry office in Japan. It felt like the right thing to do, and now that she was Mrs. Rhea Creevey, she couldn't claim she had any regrets.

"I don't know how I'm going to explain to my mother," Colin said nervously, smiling down at her after their first round of sex as a married couple.

"We were engaged, now we're married," she said breathlessly before she kissed him again. "What is there to explain?"

Still, she knew what he meant. She couldn't imagine how disappointed her father would be now giving her away at the wedding wouldn't actually be giving her away. But it would be forgiven, a minor sin at most. For the moment, she was pleased she'd finally done something simply because she wanted to, not because she was following any path of expectation. It felt like one small act of rebellion.

And a beautiful one.

/-/

Catherine sat up, rubbing her collarbone, and Harry felt a kind of euphoric terror as he waited for her words.

"Things won't be exactly the same," she said. "They couldn't be, but there are things I know now…."

"What things?" Harry said.

"I don't know if I want children," she said, hesitantly. "Definitely not right away, but maybe not ever."

Strange, that having children once seemed important to Harry. Now it didn't matter, not at all, if it made Catherine happy not to have them, and he told her so. But there was more, and he could see a distance in her eyes as she glanced out her window at the sea.

"And then there's women," she said, softly.

His stomach dropped.

"How do you mean?" he asked.

/-/

Jason tapped his quill to his nose as he considered his timetable, thinking of where he could fit in various revision sessions, research sessions, and extra practice in various courses. He didn't know how Caroline managed to carry all her NEWT level work with Prefect duties, Quidditch, Dueling Club, and a boyfriend on top of it, but she never did accept she had to make choices between things she wanted.

"Looks full," a voice above him said, amused, and Jason looked up, started to see Kevin Whitby sitting beside him in the dark, quiet library. "You know we're not supposed to be here."

"I know," Jason said, smiling tightly and making a mental note to borrow the Map from Caroline next time. "But I find I think best here when it's like this, and technically I have permission to be out after hours."

"Technically," Kevin said, smiling. "Laura tells me you're a bit of a closet wild thing. I suppose this is what she meant."

Jason snorted. Anyone who thought him wild must be measuring him by a different stick from his sisters. He thought he was rather ordinary, reserved – like his mother.

"If you say so," he said, tapping his nose again. "I take it you're happy with Natalie? She seems very happy with you."

"Yeah, I am," Kevin said, not awkwardly, to his credit. He was a good sort, and Jason appreciated he could be proud to be with someone like Natalie without fear of what her ex-boyfriend thought. "Seems like everyone around you is seeing someone. Except Dennis. Don't you ever feel lonely?"

He often felt lonely, but his friends were good succor. Cora, in particular, made certain he was never left out. She understood his family, his needs, in ways his other friends weren't equipped to understand.

"Not usually," he said, not entirely a lie.

"Well, if you ever are," Kevin said, still so chipper, "I expect you could grab drinks with me and Nat and Laura. You're always welcome."

Jason hummed and Kevin walked away. It wasn't until he was truly alone again that Jason realized Kevin had suggested a double date.

/-/

Harry traced his fingers up Catherine's leg absently as she explained this whole mess with Padma and Bliss had helped her realize things about herself.

"Now I know I want it," she said, not meeting his gaze, "I don't think I could give it up. Would it be too much to ask…?"

Well, it wasn't an easy thing for her to ask, certainly, but Harry could understand that whether it had been part of her before or not, this bisexuality was part of her now, and it would be cruel of him to try to keep her from it, entirely.

"You wouldn't…expect me to watch, would you?" he asked nervously. "Only, I don't think I could after…everything."

"No," she said, laughing nervously. "No, I wouldn't. And I know you're about to ask only people we trust. I was thinking, it wouldn't be hard to make an arrangement with Ryana."

Harry blinked.

"Ryana Cotton?"

She laughed, touching his chin.

"Yeah," she said. "She's been mad about me for ages, even in school. That's why it was so easy to seduce her. Just like it was so easy to seduce you." Harry winced, but he said nothing. He trusted Ryana, and he trusted his wife. If this was what was best for both of them, well, provided they were honest with him….

"I think we could work something out," Harry said, "with honesty, Cat, and no drugs."

"No," she said, nodding. "No drugs."

He licked his lips caressing her neck. He wasn't going to be inside her tonight, that was certain. But there was one thing he could do.

"Kitty, I think you should see your father. I think it's time."

/-/

Jason stood with his friends at the Dueling Club meeting, watching his father and Uncle Remus talk in a corner of their usual raised platform. His father had suggested something, by the look of it, and Uncle Remus was hesitant.

But his father would win out. He always did, regardless of being one third of the vote.

When it was time to begin, his father raised a hand and the whole of the Hall went quiet. He smiled and said, "Welcome! To get us started today, as usual, we're going to have a pair of older students show their stuff, to give you younger students something to aspire to. And today, we've got two of our best and brightest to give you a show. Aeson Lestrange, Caroline Black, come on up!"

Jason could have hidden under a rock, if there'd been one of suitable size. He truly thought this whole mess with Catherine had made his father totally loopy, especially since she achieved her Animagus form. Caroline and Aeson might try to literally kill each other, and with what sometimes felt like half the school watching. He could see Damon and Ourania Prewett had paled as Caroline walked away from them, and he knew he wasn't alone in his hesitation.

Still, it was going to happen, so he steeled himself for catastrophe.

/-/

Jimmy bit his lip, both excited and afraid to see Caroline and Aeson duel. He'd put in his application to the Auror program, with assurances from Cora's father that he was a good candidate, pending his NEWT scores. But he knew that as decent as he was at Dueling, this pair were a couple of artists.

The bow they gave was more a miniscule inclining of their heads, more ritual than a sign of any honorable trust between them. He wasn't sure whether they trusted each other or not. If he were either one, he wouldn't have trusted the other.

They began without any warning, both using nonverbal spells to a degree of comfort he'd not accomplished until several months into seventh year, certainly not in the second term of sixth year. Jimmy felt small as their offensive and defensive spells became a light show, and their swift movements about the raised platform became a kind of dance of dodges and jabs.

He held his breath.

/-/

Ourania knew Caroline was holding back. The simple fact she was relying so heavily on her wand told Ourania Caroline was holding back, taking it easy on her cousin. The trick was, did Aeson know? He was growing frustrated, trying to find a break in her defenses, and Ourania held her breath as she saw a change in his face, a new plan of attack forming in his mind.

He'd been throwing every hex, jinx, and curse he was allowed at her, but now he was using small spells, unusual spells, household cleaning charms, unlocking spells, Switching Spells, Cheering Charms. Caroline blocked them and dodged them with ease, but the twitch of her eyebrows showed she was puzzled by this change of modus operandi. Ourania wanted to scream out to her friend not to relax, but it was too late. The Trip Jinx knocked the wind out of her, and Caroline gasped audibly, trying to right herself from the floor. Professor Black sat forward, but Professor Snape held up a hand to stop him as Aeson moved forward, confident, about to do his Disarming Spell, obviously savoring the moment.

As he performed the spell, though, as Caroline's wand just left her fingertips, she raised her left hand and growled with frustration. A solid wall formed between the cousins, like thick glass, but clearly formed entirely of energy. It seemed to cost her a great deal to maintain it with her left hand as she snatched her wand back with her right, and Aeson stepped back, startled.

"That's cheating," he said, glancing to the teachers for some support, but none of them seemed ready to agree with him. Professor Lupin shifted uncomfortably, but apparently, wandless magic was not against the rules.

She let the wall fall and focused her attack once more, relying on her wand again, frustrating her cousin even further. Caroline was tired, but she had magical energy to spare, especially if she bought herself some time to recover. Ourania gripped her brother's hand, desperately hoping neither of them did something stupid to hurt the other. It would be far too easy to do.

Caroline had to suffer dulled reflexes after her great energy expenditure as well, and she missed a shield for a spell hitting her shoulder. She gasped in pain and her father stood, but Professor Snape pulled him back into his seat. Caroline was already gritting her teeth and redoubling her efforts.

/-/

Sirius regretted his suggestion for Caroline and Aeson to duel by the time she finally captured her cousin's wand. There was little time left for the club, not like there was any chance of being productive after the display. Caroline had to use her wandless magic three times, and she staggered over to her dueling partner, exhausted, and Sirius ignored Remus's protest as he crossed to his daughter and her boyfriend.

"Just rest, Caro," he said firmly. "You've tired yourself completely. Just sit down. Damon, you're not to allow her to duel at all today."

"Yes, sir," Damon said, although he seemed uncomfortable with being told to deny Caroline something. Sirius was reminded of the devotion Harry had for Catherine, and he felt a stab of pain, an ache to see his eldest, to know if they were working things out, to see she was going to be alright.

Instead, he knelt beside Caroline, smiled at her, and said, "You did a beautiful job, but it's time to relax now, alright?"

She hesitated, but she nodded. Even if she'd wanted to keep going, she was virtually boneless.

"Daddy," she sighed, "you have duties to perform."

"Don't be cheeky, miss," he said, tapping her nose and grinning. Still, she was right, so he kissed her hair and frowned slightly at a nervous Damon Prewett before he moved through the Great Hall, examining the different groups as he moved through.

Jason grabbed his arm as he paced through the Hall, his eyes full of silent questions, and Sirius shook his head slightly.

No news from Catherine, no invitation to France, no sign he was going to see his daughter any time soon.

/-/

Brontes walked with his brother to the Slytherin common room, not speaking about what happened at the Dueling Club meeting. In Brontes's mind, Aeson had given an admirable show of his abilities, considering what Caroline could do, and how long he managed to make a go of things.

But of course, Aeson wouldn't see things thus, so best not speak on it at all.

"I'll get her in Runes next week," Aeson said firmly. "There's a big translation competition with the sixth years. She's good, but I've been practicing, and I know she won't. Not like she does with Defense. I'm going to beat her at this one."

Brontes said nothing and kept his expression neutral. It would do no good to shatter Aeson's confidence, as he was already so unlikely to win.

/-/

Narcissa was finishing off a letter to Cara when a knock at Sirius's study door pulled her out of her train of thought. Almost certainly Harry, she mused.

"Enter," she said, setting down the quill and folding her hands. Perhaps he'd come to tell her he'd spent the last few nights in Catherine's room.

Surprisingly, it was not Harry at the door, but Catherine, her eyes a bit clearer than they'd been a few days ago, her skin more radiant. The slow rekindling of her marriage suited her, and Narcissa finally believed Severus was right to cut down the dosages.

"Was there something you needed, Catherine?" she asked.

The girl still wouldn't go to the kitchens, and started at the sight of a knife among her silverware, but otherwise, she was much recovered.

Catherine nodded slowly and said, "I knew you were writing letters, and I wondered whether you would be so kind as to…as to pass along a message for me, to whomever you think appropriate."

She had enough awareness to use formality, Narcissa thought, as she nodded and asked for the message.

"I would like to see my father, at his convenience."

/-/

Ginny sat in the lab, Ryana giving a sample to Hermione on the far side of the room, Madam Potter taking a sample of Ginny's blood in the front room.

"I must say," Madam Potter said kindly, "your brain scans were encouraging. I know things aren't perfect, but if your blood test is good, I'm prepared to say you contact me when you need something, and otherwise you're free to live your life."

Ginny nodded, but she didn't feel free to live her life. She still felt a prisoner of the restless nights, the anxiety in crowds. She asked when Catherine would be coming back to England. She wanted to see her friend, to talk about what happened, to clear the air.

Madam Potter hesitated and glanced at Ryana before lowering her voice.

"We still don't know," she said gently. "She's making progress, about like Ryana's progress, from the potions, but her emotional state is a great deal more complicated. Have you written to her?"

"Once. She hasn't responded."

"It's my understanding she's not responded to anyone," Madam Potter said, putting special emphasis on the last word. "Keep writing. She'll write back when she can. You know she will."

Ginny nodded, and she said goodbye to Ryana once the blood test proved good. Depending on how much longer Ryana would be in care, there was no telling how long it would be until she saw her again.

On the way out, she glanced in the window of another room, a room where Parvati Patil was kept in isolation. Apparently, between her memory gaps and the years of taking the drug, even before Catherine was ensnared, Professor Snape was up to his eyeballs in attempting to help her function in society again. It was possible she never would.

Ginny looked away as Parvati met her gaze, and she thanked Merlin Harry had killed Padma when he had, and not a minute later. Her life would be different, but it was a life.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine reach some understandings about their marriage, Caroline displays her prowess, and Catherine decides it's time to face her father.**

 **Review Prompt: Any bets on how this meeting's going to work out?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: What's your writing process like? Do you write a summary and then write a rough draft, or just write a rough draft? (Emmy)**

 **A: It depends on the story. Most of the time, I have some kind of outline. Many times it's chapter-by-chapter, but for Parts 1 and 2 I actually did a list of key events and let the chapters carry me as I wrote. Part 3 I did a rough chapter outline once I'd selected key plotlines. I often sketch a scene or two at the least. Here I sketched some of the early scenes in Harry and Catherine's romance, but no others. In Part 1, quite a few scenes came to me in dreams, so I sketched those early. For Part 3, I've sketched the final confrontation with our antagonist, but only the end dialogue. (by sketch I mean an elaborated outline or drafted snippets, not actual drawing, which I'm incapable of)**

 **Some stories, like Craving Comfort, I've written whole chapters by hand before typing a word. I've a story I'm working on – it's ages from publication, but it'll be a Bill/OC – where I've done an outline, I'm hand-writing every chapter, then I'll type drafts, then I'll edit, then I'll post them on a schedule. Television-based fanfic I often do by selecting episodes to alter and elaborate, and then doing sketches of chapters I need to add in for my plot.**

 **It always depends on the story, but typically I outline a whole story, do some sketches, and then let the writing fill in the gaps as I go. Sometimes I discover very interesting things about my characters along the way.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	144. Cards on the Table

**A/N: Here's Bonus 20! You guys are amazing. It's like every time I blink, there's five to ten more reviews popped up.**

 **-C**

Caroline sat in Professor Babbling's class, the day of the fated competition. She found the whole thing rather dull, but Aeson decided to make a big deal of it after his loss to her at the Dueling Club. His expression was grim as they pulled out their quills, and Professor Babbling smiled at them.

"Now," she said cheerfully, "let's get started. I will put the translation up in pieces. There will be a process of elimination, and as the translation becomes more difficult as you go along, this should give us a clear picture of skill. I will then show the correct translation, and you will quickly mark your own translations. Questions on marking will be taken, and your neighbor will certify that you have done correct marking. Those who are eliminated in each round will then take on the role of marking in subsequent rounds. Are we all clear?"

The students nodded.

"Very well." She tapped the top of the chalkboard with her wand to reveal the first six lines. "Begin."

Aeson spared Caroline a grim look before beginning his translation, but she wasn't interested in his theatrics. She let her eyes run over the runes on the board, reading the whole selection to get a sense of era, grammar, tone. She actually recognized the piece – she'd read a very poor translation of it for her History essay the week before, and she knew it was poor from her father's insistence of only using the original with his own work, and from looking at the original, now. Caroline supposed she ought to rewrite the essay, for her father's sake, once she finished this competition.

Others had nearly finished their translations by the time she picked up her quill, but Caroline wasn't bothered. She worked quickly, and once she knew what she was working on, the translation unrolled smoothly in her mind. She might miss a genitive or two – her usual mistake – but she didn't really care. The real goal was to stay in long enough to dazzle in the final round, and she knew her methods were much cleaner than Aeson's. She wouldn't need time for editing like her peers.

The secret to her success.

"And time," Professor Babbling said, raising her hand, and they all looked up, the English translation appearing beside the original runes. Caroline let her eyes scan over the translation, slightly annoyed she'd missed a comma – an unnecessary point off – but otherwise, she was pleased with her results. She ticked off the comma and passed her sheet to the person next to her – Aeson – while other students asked asinine questions about whether various mistranslations would be considered acceptable. On the whole, they were not, and Caroline instead enjoyed the way her cousin turned green as he signed off how she'd done her marking correctly.

He passed back the translation with a glare, and his own marked translations. A few minor points, a small mistake in number, but she knew he'd be furious at losing this first round to her, despite their both going through.

/-/

"That's wonderful," Lily said eagerly as Sirius brushed his fingers back through his hair. "Is Severus going with you?"

"He said it was up to you," Sirius said, grinning. "Thought you might like to see Harry while I'm talking to Kitty. Lily, I can't stop shaking."

He couldn't stop smiling, either. She supposed he hadn't stopped since he opened the letter from Narcissa announcing Catherine's readiness to see her father. Not just readiness, but an unprompted request. Lily suspected he might be near tears, but he was holding it together admirably.

"Are you bringing Cara? Because if you'd like, I can give you the boxes and instructions and the two of you could go. Harry and Narcissa will know what to do, and Harry won't mind."

Sirius hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. He was still smiling when he nodded and said, "Yeah, I'll take Cat if she wants to come along. Even if Kitty isn't willing to see her, it might do her good to talk to Harry, see Narcissa."

Lily kissed his cheek and showed him the prepared boxes, wishing to all higher powers that things went smoothly in France.

/-/

Minerva covered his classes as Sirius brought the Portkey to Grimmauld Place and explained to Cara they were going to France. Her relief was a good companion to his elation, and by the time the Portkey activated, he was trembling with excitement.

Narcissa met them at the gate with a cool, comfortable smile and kisses on the cheek. She said Harry wanted to see them, and Catherine was in her bedroom, and who would like to see whom first? Sirius was relieved when Cara said she'd love to have a chat with Harry, and Narcissa led Cara through the house, giving Sirius a secret smile. He climbed the ornate stairs, holding the box of Catherine's potions, and trying not to seem too excited. He took a moment to calm himself with a few deep breaths before he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Her voice was small, soft, but beautiful as always, and Sirius opened the door, surprised to find her standing in the doorway of the balcony, staring out at the sea. She was wearing a long, white dress, her hair blowing around her shoulders in the sea air. She looked beautiful and tragic, thinner than he remembered, but it suited her.

"Kitty-Cat," he said, feeling his throat tighten, and she turned and smiled sadly at him.

"Hello, Daddy," she said, and he couldn't take it anymore. He set the box aside and crossed the room in two long strides, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head eagerly as they both trembled.

"I love you so much," he sighed, feeling her warmth and weight in his arms. "So, so, so much."

"I love you too," she choked out, pressing her face to his chest. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."

"Shh," he exhaled. "It's alright, my darling. It's in the past. I'm just so pleased to see you well."

/-/

The result of the little competition in the Ancient Runes course was clear at lunch, and Brontes saw his brother walk into the Great Hall with slumped shoulders and downcast eyes. To Caroline's credit, she didn't appear to be gloating too heavily. She stood straight as she glided in, but no straighter than her usual, and her friends seemed to be in a bright mood.

He moved up the table to where Aeson had sat and whispered, "Well, it may cheer you to know Uncle Sirius has gone to France quite suddenly. It would seem Catherine has recovered well enough for family visits."

This did brighten Aeson's spirits, if only slightly, and he said, "I wonder when she's coming home."

Brontes shrugged. He wondered, as well, and he thought perhaps it would still be some time, but as much as he didn't understand why, he did miss her.

/-/

Narcissa knew Cara didn't want to interrupt Catherine's time with her father, which was very selfless of her. The two women watched from the second-story sitting room as Catherine and Sirius walked the beach, arm in arm.

"It was eating him up," Cara said softly. "That she was suffering and there was almost nothing he could do. You should have seen his face when he told me we were coming here, Cissy. I don't think I'd seen him so happy since the day she was born, since he first held her in his arms. I've never seen someone so in love as he was when he first looked at our little baby."

With a hum, Narcissa glanced across the hall, where Harry was reading a book, or at least pretending to.

"We don't know how long it will be until she can go home," Narcissa said in her softest voice, "but Severus tells me that if this meeting goes well, and she keeps responding to treatment, it might be soon. Summer, perhaps, when Sirius has more time to spend with her. He can't take too much time off school, obviously. And she loves you, but it's different."

"Yes," Cara said, smiling softly. "We'd be happy to have her back at any time, under any circumstances, but Severus usually knows best. Sirius might throw a small fit, but I'll talk him 'round to whatever the recommendation is. Never you mind. Rabastan can help."

Narcissa looked down at the beach again and saw Sirius press a gentle kiss to his daughter's forehead, wrapping his arms around her. It must have been shocking to see how thin she'd become, something like looking at the fragile young girl from the forest Bellatrix had dropped on Dumbledore's doorstep, the girl who became his wife. How startling it must have been for Sirius to see Harry had stabbed to death someone who was – in essence – torturing his wife.

At least they knew Harry wasn't pregnant.

/-/

Ginny and Blaise decided to go to dinner to celebrate her new medical status, in a Muggle restaurant. His mother had sniffed at the choice of location, but the idea was if Ginny decided she couldn't handle the crowd, no one would know them, and no one would tell the press Ginny had a meltdown in a restaurant. It was as much to avoid questions about what the illness was as it was to protect Ginny from bad press, but she didn't mind.

The place was nice, modern décor, well-dress patrons, and a very kind and knowledgeable waiter.

"I heard Professor Black has gone to France," Blaise said with a small smirk. "I take it this is good news about Catherine."

"That's what we believe," Ginny said, feeling a small burst of warmth. She'd rarely seen as much love from any one human being for another as she did when she considered Catherine's father for her. She couldn't imagine the agony it had been for him, waiting to know if and when she would see him. "Things must be better for her and Harry. I heard Snape telling Harry's mum they were waiting for Harry and Catherine to patch things up amongst themselves before making any decision on whether to force her father on her or not."

"When we're married," Blaise said, raising an eyebrow, "if we have children, never let me become so attached to them. When they make their inevitable mistakes, I'd prefer to keep some emotional space."

Ginny laughed, tracing her finger along the condensation of her water glass, but she didn't feel humor. He hadn't seen like Ginny had, the way Professor Black got whenever Catherine was in danger of any kind. That was the best kind of fatherhood, she thought. The kind that would protect its children, no matter what the threat.

"I'd like to think you'd do that for me," she said, looking up at him with a small smile. "If I were ever in danger, I like to think you'd fight all my demons."

"Of course," he said, kissing her hand. "I'd fight demons for anyone I love, but I prefer to fight demons quietly, and with money and influence. Wandwork gets so messy, you know."

They laughed, and smiled, but she knew this was a sign of things to come. He would never be Professor Black, or Harry, and somehow she was alright with that. Perhaps she didn't need the same kind of tissue paper wrapping Catherine always seemed to need.

"I've thought of kids," Ginny said after their food arrived. "But I don't know if I want them right away, or very many. Two, maybe three at most."

"Works for me," Blaise said with a shrug. "I'm not cuddly, and I'm not the one carrying them around for nine months. Whenever you want them, and however many you want, we'll have them. Just say the word."

/-/

Sirius sat with Catherine in the music room after dinner, and he kissed her hair. So strange, how she'd become a beautiful young woman. He could still picture her as a tiny little girl, climbing into his lap to ask for sweets or to brush his hair with the wrong side of the brush or to beg for him to read to her, even if it was from his research material.

"Why did you feel the need to start down that road, Kitty-Cat?" he whispered, smoothing her hair as she curled up against his chest.

"The drugs?" she said back, her voice small in the still room. He hummed. "I wanted a break from being in control all the time. I felt like I needed to be…always in control. Always perfect. Always…." She bit her lip, and he asked her to continue. He needed to understand. "Always able to be want you wanted."

Sirius's chest ached, and he hugged her tighter.

"Kitty, you have always been just what I wanted," he sighed. "And you always will be. Beautiful, brilliant, and never ashamed of me. The only thing I want is for you to love me, despite my flaws, just like I'll always love you, no matter what you do."

Catherine nodded, pressing her face into his chest.

"Daddy, there's something I need to tell you."

"Anything, my darling."

"Daddy, I remember everything. I always did, but I didn't want you to suffer."

At first, he wasn't sure what she meant, but as she lifted her head to look him in the eye, he realized she meant from when she was in school, from Igor Karkaroff. He struggled to breathe as this information settled. All those years, the memories he comforted himself in her not having….

"Kitty, why…." His fingers began to tremble and he tried to hide it by smoothing her hair. "You didn't need to suffer that alone, darling. You could have told me."

She smiled grimly and said, "I told Harry. I wasn't alone. But…I couldn't tell you, not then. I didn't know how, and you were already in so much pain. I couldn't stand to make it worse. I've never wanted you to hurt."

He sighed. He never wanted her to hurt, either, but no one's life was ever without pain, entirely. He would always have to deal with the knowledge that he couldn't protect her from everything, but that was the way of it.

"There's something I need to tell you, Kitty-Cat," he said, kissing her temple. "You won't believe me."

"Try," she said, smiling.

"I've quit smoking. And I've cut back on drinking. I'm going to be clean, darling. Isn't that nice?"

"Difficult, I imagine," she said with a small laughed. She kissed his cheek and he sighed. Difficult was nothing if it made her happy. "We'll be clean together, Daddy. As if I could be otherwise, right now. Aunt Cissy is a diligent caretaker."

He should have been a diligent caretaker, but he supposed Catherine turned out alright, regardless.

/-/

Brontes stretched his arms as he walked the halls with Jason on the pretext of Prefect rounds.

"I haven't heard from him," Jason said, but he was smiling for the first time Brontes could remember in months. "But Uncle Remus said he should be back in the morning. They'll likely have to pry him away, but he should be in good spirits when he returns."

Brontes nodded and said softly, "I need you to keep a secret for me. I…trust you more than anyone else, and I respect you."

"Anything," Jason said, suddenly serious. They had always been a good compliment, Brontes mused.

"I've decided to pay court to someone, and I've approached her, and she's agreeable. She doesn't think her family will quite understand, but she can put it in terms they do understand. My concern is my mother."

"Rose Zeller?" Jason said with a wry smile, and Brontes chuckled, nodding. "Congratulations, mate. She's a great girl. I'm sure your mum will support you, given time. After all, she's beautiful, intelligent. And Adra's not married yet, so she'll be eager for grandchildren."

Brontes nodded, hoping his cousin was right. He could still see, in his mind's eye, the brightness in Rose Zeller's beautiful blue eyes as he asked her if she would be willing to have him play court to her, the way her hand trembled as he kissed it. He'd wanted to kiss her lips, to touch her face, but to Brontes, courtship wasn't just an old-fashioned ritual to be withheld for propriety. He believed in the mystery of restraint, and he wanted to marry her all the sooner so he could have a right to those things he ached for. Perhaps it wasn't for everyone, but it certainly was for him, and he hoped that it was for Rose Zeller, as well.

/-/

Narcissa stood in the foyer with Sirius. Cara had the Portkey and was walking to the gates already, but Sirius was staring at the staircase, the wheels turning in his mind. Narcissa knew exactly what he was thinking, and she knew he recognized the impossibility, but she gave him a few moments. He needed those moments.

"Please don't make me leave her," Sirius whispered. Narcissa said nothing. She wasn't the one making him go, but she would if she had to. "Cissy, I should be the one here, taking care of her, helping her. You should be in England."

"Sirius," she said gently, "I have time on my hands. Draco's doing fine, Lucius probably doesn't miss me. And I'm removed enough to be a neutral face in the hardest part. In the summer, maybe, you can spend some longer periods here. I'd like to have her well enough to come home by then, but if she's not, we'll work something out. Until then, take what you can."

"I know." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn, I know. D'you remember when she was a baby? She'd wrap her little fingers around one of my fingers. Those beautiful eyes. How did we get here?"

Narcissa touched his face and smiled.

"She still adores you, Sirius. Her mistakes are just bigger now. Severus and I will see if we can't get you here again, soon. Until then, live your life. You've got two other children in England who need you, too."

He sighed, still staring at the staircase as he kissed Narcissa's cheek and thanked her. She only wished she could give him more.

 **A/N: So, Sirius and Cara visit France, Brontes has an agreement with Rose, and Catherine tells her father the whole truth.**

 **Review Prompt: Any guesses on how Delia's going to react to the news, since she's already so on-edge?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: No little Potter kids? (Marcytherock)**

 **A: SPOILER ALERT! (Being patient is wonderful, but I can only make you guys suffer so much, especially given what I've got in store for Part 3…)**

 **There will be. Two of them. But not right away. They've got a few more things to go through, first.**

 **Q: Does Sirius have no idea [about Rabastan]? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Ah, this is my favorite part of the Rabastan thing. Right now, only Delia knows. And by the end of Part 3, only Delia and one other person will know. But he will still manage to cause a very big, ugly mess. While another big, ugly mess is going on concurrently, giving him his opportunity. Sirius will never know. Isn't that terribly chilling?**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	145. Lingering Barriers

**A/N: And here's Bonus 21, our previous record. As of now you've earned SIX more bonuses, and I suspect you've not stopped earning! This is going to be quite a record-setting week!**

 **-C**

Ginny relaxed as she set down the first letter she'd received from Catherine. They didn't think she'd be returning to England right away, but Catherine hoped she'd come home soon. The plan was for her and Harry to live at Selwyn Manor until they'd found another home suiting their needs, and Catherine swore she'd see Ginny almost as soon as she got settled at home again.

"Well?" Blaise asked, putting down his glass and sitting with her. "Who's it from?"

"Kitty," she said brightly. "Still no date yet, but she's definitely coming home soon. I can't imagine how happy her parents must be. They'll want to settle in the Midlands again, I imagine. We should check listings."

"If you'd like."

She would like. Even if nothing they came up with was suitable for the Potters, she would feel like she had done something productive with her time off.

Rhea and Colin were visiting from Japan, however, and wanted to come around and have a chat, so they hurriedly threw together some sandwiches and Ginny put the kettle on when Blaise let in their friends.

"She'll be pleased," she heard Blaise say, politely and almost with a smile, and Ginny quickly pulled down cups. "She's in the kitchen. You know the way."

Ginny greeted them at the door to the kitchen and hugged both Rhea and Colin. She started when she saw a wedding band on Rhea's hand, and she wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Someone's naughty," Ginny said, grinning. "Auntie Dorcas is going to be annoyed."

"She is," Colin said with a nervous laugh. "But I thought her dad was going to lose it until Rhea said it was her idea. And then I think he decided not to kill me. They started asking if we were pregnant."

"Are you?" Blaise asked, amused as he wrapped his arms around Ginny. He kissed the side of her head.

"No," Rhea said with a laugh. "Just wanted to get it done without a fuss. I thought we could have the wedding while we were in England, but we're only staying long enough for Cora's graduation before I go to Germany, so it didn't seem right to steal her thunder. How's Kitty? I've not had a chance to write her, and I know so little."

"She's recovering well," Ginny said, smiling weakly. She hated being closed about the matter. "Ryana's still under extensive care as well, but they're thinking she could be released soon. I finally got a letter back, and Kitty said she might come over the summer, or maybe at the end of it. Her father did finally visit."

"Oh, good," Rhea sighed. "Was she too contagious?"

"Stress of recovery," Blaise said, almost too quickly. "She didn't feel she could see him yet, and he had to comply. I don't think he wanted to, but his advice told him not to press."

"I couldn't have the wedding now, anyway," Rhea said, eyes wide. "I can't imagine doing a ceremony and not having Kitty there. Speaking of weddings, d'you know when you two are getting married, yet?"

Blaise and Ginny glanced at each other and he said, "We'll see. We're taking it as it comes for now. I think the tipping point will be when her mother finally gets fed up with us living together and demands we make things proper. You know Molly."

Ginny and Rhea both winced from memories of Ginny's mother's despot-like ways. She was a well-meaning woman, but sometimes she could be a bit…unyielding.

"Good luck," Rhea said softly. "Anyway, we're going to see Ron and Luna tomorrow. Any advice before we go? Oh, thank you."

Blaise put the sandwiches out and gestured for them to sit.

"Ron's taking the whole joke shop thing very seriously," Ginny said with a smile. "It's cute, the way he's still striving to prove himself an equal to Fred and George. You know how he is. And Luna's got so much attention for her work, it hasn't really helped."

"I can imagine," Rhea sighed. She placed her hand on Colin's and grabbed another sandwich with the other hand. "And, erm…. Blaise, how's Draco?"

"Important, busy, and in love, as usual," Blaise said, smirking. "I think Astoria's very good for him, makes him keep a head on his shoulders. Speaking of heads on shoulders, any news on your poor brother? I can't imagine his life is easy, given his girlfriend."

Ginny and Rhea laughed, and Rhea said, "You know, you'd think, but even six years in they still seem to be perfectly suited and ecstatic about everything. Ourania says it's sickening, but I reckon it's because she's single again. She bemoaned the matter in a rather lengthy letter." "She writes for the pair of them," Colin said between mouthfuls of sandwich. "Damon hardly deigns to write if he's not writing to Caro. Apparently, Caro thinks Ourania's newly single life is wonderful, as she thought Ackerley was dull as nails. Apparently, it's the going opinion."

Ginny relaxed into the conversation, enjoying having friendly faces, normality, things to think about apart from her health and Catherine. She could almost imagine, as she poured them all more tea, nothing untoward had happened.

When they were leaving, though, and Ginny walked them out, Rhea hesitated inside as Blaise walked Colin out. She whispered, "Gin, tell me the truth. It wasn't a sickness, was it?"

Ginny's eyes dropped down to Rhea's knees, which answered the question as well as words.

"If you need," Rhea breathed into the space between them, "ever, I'll drop anything and come home. Don't forget it."

Ginny nodded, and hugged her cousin, pleased she'd agreed to lunch.

/-/

NEWT exams, like OWL exams, began on Monday morning with Charms, but where the younger students could begin with a written exam, seventh year students were expected to begin with a practical exam.

Laura's stomach tightened as she stepped forward at her name. What really mattered to her was Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, Runes, and History of Magic, and thankfully there was very little practical magic required for those sort of subjects, but Charms was important to her father, so here she was.

"Good morning," the examiner said, a tiny man with a bright voice and far too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning. "How do you feel, Miss Madley?"

"A bit sick to my stomach," Laura admitted with a weak smile. "But seven years, I'm used to it by now. My last big exams."

"Don't worry," he said kindly. "It takes a bit of getting used to, but in a couple weeks' time, you'll be free to look back on all this with relaxed pride. Now, let's start with something in OWL level and work our way up, shall we? Notes say you've done your research on strengthening charms. That's a very interesting decision. Don't see many people even practicing those."

"I want to work with Squibs," Laura said, and she saw someone turn sharply to look at her out of the corner of her eye. As nervous as she was about her exams, she glanced up, curious to see who it was.

Jason Black was staring at her, obviously having heard what she said, and he seemed stunned and pleased. She felt her cheeks go warm as she turned back to her examiner and attempted to focus on what she needed to do.

/-/

Astoria reread the letter from Narcissa Malfoy and nodded to herself, checking her diary before smoothing her hair, storing the letter in her bag, and grabbing a cloak on her way out the door. It wasn't cold outside, but she'd never been to Grimmauld Place before, and she felt the cloak lent a level of formality to made the matter less…awkward.

She pressed the bell when she arrived, and was just pulling off her gloves when Madam Black answered, mildly surprised to see Astoria on her doorstep, but all grace as she invited her in.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, taking Astoria's cloak and hanging it up in the foyer before leading her to a sitting room.

"No, thank you," Astoria said kindly. "Draco's mother wrote me. I brought the letter, if you would rather read it than have me tell you its contents." Madam Black shook her head and waved Astoria on. "She tells me there are signs Catherine will be well enough to return sooner than initially believed. She thought it might be a good idea if I helped you prepare Selwyn Manor, quietly and discretely, so your husband might have a pleasant surprise when term ends."

Madam Black smiled a small, subtle smile and she nodded, asking if Astoria wished to get started right away.

/-/

James encouraged the last of his Slytherin third year exams, telling the girl she'd certainly passed, because he worried she might pass out if he didn't assuage her fears on the spot. It didn't seem healthy for them to be so tightly wound so young, especially as she was only beginning her exam season, and the worst was yet to come. He locked up his classroom and rubbed his forehead before dropping by Remus's office.

"Done with the first years, I see?" James said, smirking. "I say we skip dinner and go down to the pub. I'll grab Padfoot."

"Severus?" Remus asked, waving his wand to put away and secure the first days' exam notes.

"He didn't have anything to do today," James said, shrugging. "He was working with my wife on…the other concern. I suppose we could leave him a message to join us if he wants."

/-/

Fabian poured his daughter a glass of wine. Colin was having drinks with Luna and Ron at Hogsmeade, but he and Dorcas were getting a bit of quiet time with Rhea, and he wished he could make it last longer.

"So, you're staying the whole of the summer?" Dorcas asked. "Or will you have to leave after the graduation?"

"It's looking like I won't have the whole summer, no," Rhea said, frowning and rubbing her hands together. "I need to wait and see if the top duelist out of Brazil will rack up enough points at his local tournament to unseat me in the big bout in Germany, but I'm confident I've done more than he can catch up to. D'you know if Cora's got plans, after graduation?"

"Yeah," Fabian said, grinning. "Ginny's put her in touch with the _Prophet,_ and they've decided to give her an internship in the sports reporting department. They'll probably start her out covering Quadpot or something, and move her into Quidditch later. You know how competitive reporting is these days. How's Colin doing with covering the dueling?"

"Well, he's learned the terminology," she said with a weak smile. "I've had to help him, a bit, but he's coming along. Mum, these biscuits are delicious."

"Thank your Aunt Molly."

/-/

Tuesday morning, Brontes walked Rose Zeller to Professor Lupin's classroom, kissing her hand before he hurried down for his Transfiguration NEWT. She told him he'd be fine, and he assured her the same about her exam, but his anxieties were not about failing. Brontes possessed enough of the easy confidence of his cousins to have no fears of failing his exams. He would earn what he needed, and he had no desire to be top of the year. Kevin Whitby would likely earn that.

No, his mind was on what he would do the next year, knowing he would be off in the world, making himself worthy, while Rose Zeller was at Hogwarts. He couldn't imagine, after so many years, what his afternoons would be without hounding the library, attempting to get a glimpse of her revising, or doubling back on his path to cross hers, in an attempted to say some small word of encouragement.

He lined up with the other NEWT students outside the Great Hall and he stared at the marble staircase, suddenly afraid to graduate.

/-/

Neville started when he heard his greenhouse door open, and he looked up to see Hermione entering, smiling and pleasant, more relaxed than he'd seen her in some time.

"I thought you were with Harry's mum the rest of the day?" he said, glancing at his watch. He'd been caught up in his work, but he was relieved to see that he hadn't worked the day away without noticing.

"She didn't need me, and I don't have any appointments until tomorrow," Hermione said brightly. "I figured I could give you a hand."

"I take it that's a good sign," Neville said, excited. "Am I allowed to talk about it?"

"No," she said, her smile dimming. "Top secret. Madam Potter and Professor Snape expressly said Catherine's father isn't to know yet. I think they mean to surprise him."

Neville swore he would say nothing, but he began to look forward to seeing his friends again, and he hoped it would be very, very soon.

/-/

Catherine sat up in bed, half wanting to go for a walk on the beach, half not wanting to disturb Harry, who was clinging to her in his sleep as though letting go would make her disappear. She thought with guilt of how she'd spurned him again the night before and she rolled over closer into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.

To her, that Harry could still be so devoted to her was a mystery and a miracle. She knew she didn't deserve it, but she couldn't stand to lose him, either. Perhaps he would be better off with someone more normal, less damaged, but she was terribly selfish. Trying to imagine life without Harry was like trying to imagine lungs without air.

He stirred, muttering something she didn't understand and burying his face in her hair, shifting to hold her closer. Catherine could feel his hardness against her thigh, and she struggled with fear, repulsion, and pride. These weren't the right emotions, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, wishing she could desire him the way she did when they were young, spending the night in a Brighton hotel, desperate to be as close to each other as humanly possible. Back then, having him inside of her was an almost spiritual experience. Now, she didn't know how to get back to how uncomplicated they were back then.

"Cat," he moaned and she opened her eyes, smiling weakly as she saw him smiling up at her. "Good morning, Cat."

"Morning," she sighed, as he pulled her in for a kiss. She relaxed into lazy kisses, trying to ignore the hardness still pressing into her leg. Harry's fingers traced up her torso, his lips doing the begging without words for more, more than she could give right now. But Catherine relaxed into the kiss just long enough before pulling away and saying, "Are you as hungry as I am?"

/-/

Laura waited outside the Transfiguration written exam, the last of her academic career, and she stood near Kevin and Natalie, feeling like a third wheel. She was surprised when Jason Black gestured to her. She looked around, making sure he'd been beckoning her and not someone else, and she crossed to him, brushing hair out of her face.

"Hey, I've had a thought," he said, "and tell me what you think, okay? You said you wanted to work for Squib rights. And I think that's a great idea. So great, I think I'd like to as well. But there's not really a department or a program for it, is there?" Laura shook her head. This had been her greatest anxiety, knowing the one thing she wanted to do had to be built from scratch. "Well, I happen to have connections, potential financers, and my brother-in-law's friend just started a program for house-elf welfare, and she's agreed to help me with the basics. What d'you say we form a program?"

"You say it like it's simple," Laura said with a nervous laugh. Quiet as he was, Jason was always confident. He almost looked like his father when he spoke for any length of time.

"Well, not simple," he said, shrugging and watching the examiners pass the mass of waiting students, going into the Great Hall. "But not especially difficult. I've got aunts and uncles and cousins with more money than most Ministry departments. And that's not counting my own family vaults. The easy part for us is the hard part for everyone else – funding. All we need to do is arrange a well-organized proposal that no one could argue with. I'm confident we could do it, Laura."

She had to admit, he was probably right. She'd heard that funding was almost impossible for the unknown starting out, and she was unknown. Jason would not only be able to bring funding to her passion project, but he was also intelligent, kind, well-bred, and hard working. The only Black she could count on to be a good business partner was the one approaching her. Laura had to ask herself if it had more to do with her mild crush on him than a reasonable business acumen making her want to say yes, but before she could push away the thought, students were ushered in, and Jason smiled at her.

"Think about it," he said. "Plenty of time left in the year for us to work out the details. Just let me know."

Laura nodded, following him into the Great Hall, feeling her heart pound unhealthily quickly. She wondered what kind of good they would manage together. Likely better than she'd manage alone, yes, but she had to wonder what was in it for him. She would have to ask him this, she supposed as she picked up her quill. For the moment, she had to focus on her exams.

The future would have to wait.

 **A/N: So, arrangements are in the works for getting the couple home soon, Catherine's still anxious about penetration, and Jason and Laura discuss business…**

 **Review Prompt: What sort of house do you think they'll buy this time around? Similar to what they had, or something totally different?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Harry face any repercussions for stabbing Padma? (Th3Gingerwizard)**

 **A: Legally, no. Catherine's going to be knife-shy for some time, and that's a definite consequence. Eventually, as part of the deal with Barker, the whole story will come out – decades down the line – but it will be a matter of no consequence by then.**

 **Q: I know you said Harry won't be going back to his previous personality, but will be become stronger/harder at all from his experiences? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: He will, a dash, in Part 3. As much as he adores Catherine, he will tell her no for things he thinks matters more…. Of course, this may prove to be the wrong choice, in the end, but given what he doesn't know, he wouldn't be expected to anticipate it as a problem. I want to stress that while most of you are really upset with the idea of an open marriage, this isn't an open marriage in the sense of Catherine can sleep with whomever she likes. It's an arrangement that she can have a relationship with a woman Harry approves of to allow her to explore that side of her sexuality. If at any time Harry revoked his approval, she would stop. I'm not expecting you all to approve, but it's what they both think the best way forward is, knowing what they know now. And they're not meant to be a perfect marriage – they're both deeply flawed characters, and not everyone can be "fixed." They're doing the best they know how.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	146. Pushing

**A/N: Here Bonus 22! We're into the record-breaking territory now!**

 **-C**

Thursday morning, Caroline trudged down to the greenhouses for her exam, excited. There were courses she had to take and courses she wanted to take, and nothing was more pleasant for her than Herbology. Even at this high level, every time she worked the soil, she was reminded of working in the gardens with her father on his summers off, learning the importance of weeding and delighting as he sneaked in lessons on appropriate charms for soil care.

"It's going to be weird, isn't it?" Rose said softly. "When your brother graduates. Just you, for a year. Catherine should be home by then, shouldn't she?"

"I think that's the plan," Caroline said, feeling a stab of anxiety at the mention of Catherine, an increasingly common response. Things were better, but with her sister, it was always a matter of waiting for the next disaster. "I don't know enough about the medical side of things to suppose it's certain."

"That'll be nice for your father," Rose said with a small, anxious smile. "Listen, you've probably noticed, but if you haven't—"

"I know my cousin's courting you," Caroline said, grinning. "It's a good match, although I'd love to see Aunt Delia's face when he tells her. Mind you, she's not so bad. If Uncle Rabastan likes you – which he will – then she'll give you absolutely no trouble. Anyway, it'd be cool to have you in the family. He's a great sort of person, Brontes. Very like Jason, quiet and dependable. Whatever you do, though, if someone suggests having Adra in the wedding, put your foot down. Don't let her anywhere near it."

Rose had gone a bit pale, and Caroline just laughed. Clearly, she wasn't thinking about weddings at all, as though courtship could end in anything else, these days. The two girls quickly quizzed each other on their Herbology to avoid further awkward conversation, and nearly to the greenhouse, Rose asked, "So…you and Damon are dating, not courting."

"Yeah."

"What's the difference?"

Caroline considered how to put it that wasn't cruel or sordid. She licked her lips and said, "Well, let me say it like this. Damon and I have sex before marriage, it causes absolutely no problems. I mean, I don't know if Jason had sex with Natalie. I'd guess not. But Kitty and Harry were definitely sleeping together before they got married."

"You've slept with Damon?" Rose hissed, horrified. "What was it like?"

"We've done it plenty of times," Caroline said with a shrug, watching Professor Sprout beckon in the first sixth year student. "It's lovely. I mean, it was awkward and a tiny bit uncomfortable at first, but don't worry, darling. Before you go getting married, I'll give you all my tips to make your wedding night as pleasant as possible."

Rose's cheeks flushed, and Caroline wished her cousin could see her now. She knew Brontes wasn't the sort to allow his mind to fantasize, even if he was a male. Caroline wondered how pleased he'd be to go the old-fashioned way if he could see how prettily Rose blushed when sex was mentioned.

/-/

Selwyn Manor was a beautiful place, and Astoria felt a small stab of jealousy as she changed the sheets on Catherine Potter's bed, realizing ever since she was a little girl this had been her summer room, and how charmed her life must have been. Two houses, and all this to come to every summer. A villa to recover at in France, and now she was coming home, she and her husband got to kick about in Selwyn Manor until they decided what to do about their housing for the long-term.

"Astoria?"

She hurried out into the hall to see Madam Black, carrying a small tray with tea on it.

"Oh, let me," Astoria said, but Madam Black shook her head, nodding for Astoria to join her in the room across the hall. Astoria followed her in, and set up the tea, as Madam Black smoothed her skirts. "This is such a beautiful house."

"Hardly a house, my dear," Madam Black said, frowning slightly as she looked around. "For my children, it is a happy place. In my childhood, it was my prison. To me, our London home will always be the preferred house. I don't know what my husband prefers. In some ways, I think his home will always be Hogwarts."

Astoria passed Madam Black a cup of tea and said, "Does it feel strange to you, not having been to Hogwarts?"

"No," Madam Black said with a small smile. "No, I think it's good for them to share their special place. Even if it's not for me."

/-/

As soon as James finished, he hurried to Sirius's quarters for drinks. The Gryffindor second years were not so bad as many groups, but he'd had a very long day. Sirius was glowing when James arrived, playing a jovial host, more pleased than he'd been since his visit to France.

"Caro had a good exam, then?" James teased, accepting his drink and winking to Severus, who was scowling at the window. Probably his usual scowl, not anything particularly special.

"Brilliant," Sirius sighed. "So strange to think it's the last time I'll give an exam to one of my children. She'll be gone next June."

"Will you still want to teach when your children have graduated?" Remus asked softly, looking up from a book he was flipping through. "You could always spend more time with Kitty, with Cate. You may start having grandchildren to spoil."

"You must be joking," Sirius said, laughing. "Yeah, I'll probably take off every chance I get and see my family, but what kind of idiot would I be, leaving this job before I'm old and gray and my grandchildren have come through with their mischief? Besides, I've got some time yet. Harry and Kitty aren't likely to have children any time soon, and Jason's single."

"Yeah, well, Damon and Caro could be announcing pregnancy any day," James said, joking, but the spluttering and coughing Sirius was reduced to was not as entertaining as he'd have hoped. He certainly prayed Caroline would forgive him the joke, as her life was bound to become a tad more difficult.

/-/

By the intersecting weekend of exams, Cora was exhausted. She lay on a sofa in the Gryffindor common room, Jimmy sitting at her feet, with her legs on his lap, Jason sitting on the floor, and she was tracing her fingers lazily through his hair. Natalie was reading on a nearby armchair, and Dennis was pacing in front of the fireplace. NEWTs had made him exceedingly restless.

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" Jimmy said softly.

He didn't have to clarify. They were all thinking how in a few weeks, they'd be out in the world, doing whatever they'd be doing, not to return to Hogwarts. Cora felt small when she thought of her sister's job, hopping all over the globe to do dueling competitions. Jason was now putting his head together with Laura Madley on starting a foundation for Squibs. And now, Cora was just going to intern in a department of _The Daily Prophet_. Not glamorous, not especially important, and yet she supposed she was pleased and proud, in a small way.

"I think," Natalie said softly, "we should make the most of our time after exams, once we have it. Jason, have you planned a party?"

"Of course."

"I doubt Kevin will argue with it," she said, smiling slightly, unconsciously, as she always did at the mention of her boyfriend, no matter whom was mentioning him. "I'll put out feelers. Shack?"

"Yeah, it's safest," Jason said, stretching. "Just seventh years, mind. I love my sister, but she's on her own for parties, now. I'm sure she and Aeson will manage to put on some real screamers."

"I feel sorry for your father," Cora teased. "He'll go gray, Caro in charge of anything."

"I heard Professor Potter say he was putting her down for Head Girl," Jimmy said softly. "Could you imagine?"

"I don't want to imagine," Jason said with a laugh. "Uncle James might find it amusing, but they'd never be so daft. They want Hogwarts to still be standing by the time she graduates. She'll not be Head Girl."

Cora smiled to herself, silently agreeing as she let her fingers trace through his silky black locks. Brilliant as Caroline could be, she was a wild card.

/-/

Brontes thought it was especially cruel to have a Potions NEWT practical first thing on Monday of the second week of exams, but he stood in the room, in his little cubical. He rubbed his temples, trying to run through the steps of the potion he'd been developing – a requirement of the NEWT for this course. He had to brew three high-level potions, plus his own development, within the time allotted, and he rubbed his forehead, looking around at the ingredients, trying to think what he would be expected to brew.

Ashwinder eggs, so probably Amortentia, he mused. For some reason, just thinking of the world's most powerful love potion, his pulse began to race. He could recall the horrible sensation of smelling it for the first time the year before, feeling dizzy at the sensation of those attractive scents, ones he'd only had small whiffs of all together.

Rose Zeller.

He knew he'd smelled her, a blend of her lotion and the canvas of her bookbag, parchment….

He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyebrows again, trying to focus on something else. He couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of her, and he knew this was probably part of the point of having them work on that particular potion. It would serve as a great distraction from the other three potions needing to be brewed. He wished he could find the eyes of a familiar, friendly face, but the cubicle was too tall. He was isolated.

Brontes held his breath, waiting for the list of potions. He knew there would be no brewing instructions, that he would have to brew all four from memory. It was expected, he'd been told, for at least one would be lost in the attempt. Only a handful of students in the past decade had managed to brew all four, and he knew Catherine cheekily brewed a fifth because she could. He'd be pleased if he managed two.

/-/

Anastasia Barbary could scarcely breathe as she sat down for her Arithmancy final. She glanced across the way to where Caroline Black and Aeson were having whispered words, probably something competitive. Anastasia looked back on a time when she thought she might manage to turn Aeson's eye, maybe get a date, see how things went.

Of course, she hadn't considered how she had nothing to do with his cousin, and was therefore utterly uninteresting to him. He was kind enough to her, pitied her the asinine roommates she had, but overall, he was too fixated with Caroline and her friends to notice Anastasia existed, especially now he was doing rounds with his cousin, instead of Anastasia.

"Alright," Professor Vector said, raising a wand to encourage silence. The sixth years fell silent quickly, knowing delaying exams would never lead to positive reinforcement. "I know this isn't your favorite time of year, and some of you have a long week ahead. In the interest of this, I keep the exam short. You will mostly be graded on your work on your individual project, not on how well you're able to do a series of problems. Are there any last-minute questions? Any serious ones?"

They all stared back wordless, and they were told to begin, which brought the problem set into visibility on the parchment on each desk. Anastasia spared one glance back at Aeson and Caroline before she began her work.

/-/

Demelza wished she hadn't decided to keep on with Care of Magical Creatures as she frowned at the place where the thestrals were supposed to be. There was something utterly unnerving about seeing a hunk of meat being eaten out of her hand by something she couldn't see.

She didn't care how misunderstood thestrals were. If one of them took her arm, she'd never forgive Hagrid.

/-/

Wednesday at midnight, Malcolm Baddock walked with Brontes Lestrange to the Astronomy tower for their NEWT.

"Almost over," Ackerley of Ravenclaw muttered from somewhere behind them, and Malcolm tried not to snigger. He'd never been close with Brontes, but they'd never had problems with each other, and it seemed as good a time as any to have a chat.

"I heard your cousin's inviting all the seventh years to his party," Malcolm muttered. "After exams."

"Yeah," Brontes said, frowning. "He's done a change of venue, pulled some strings in the village. Hog's Head. We have our word to the proprietor we're all going to behave. We're all of age, so it doesn't really matter what he serves us. You will behave, won't you, Baddock?"

"If I must," Malcolm teased, but he would. The last thing he wanted was to end his seven long years of school on a sour note because he decided to make of an arse of himself at the party.

The examiner waited for them all to take a spot and set up their collapsible telescopes. Malcolm wondered vaguely how many people actually used their NEWT in this subject. Very few people took it, anyway. They were given orders to map only the blue coded section as a normal star chart, then to extrapolate from their chart to fill in the rest of the chart from memory and the almanac in the back of the room. Malcolm hated doing this, and he'd be happy if he passed at all, or at least didn't fail too badly.

"Best of luck," the woman who was their examiner said in a smooth, warm voice. "Begin."

Malcolm clarified his viewing angle and focused in on the star marked on the chart, licking his lips and trying to find his bearings. He'd had natural aptitude for the subject, but he hadn't given it much consideration, not being much of a night owl and thereby not taking the time to practice during summers, the one subject a student could really get ahead in, no matter where they lived.

Still, he mused as he began marking the first constellation on his blue segment, when he left Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, he'd never have to open a collapsible telescope again. With this encouragement to spur him on, he focused as closely on his work as possible, taking very careful measurements, and filling up his blue section with attentiveness. He didn't think it was his best work, but it would certainly do.

When he went back to fill in the remainder of his chart using the almanac and his memory, he shared a smile with Brontes. The end was in sight.

/-/

Catherine trembled, stepping into the bath, feeling the warm water move around her. She didn't look up as she heard Harry's footsteps follow her in. He watched her for a moment, their eyes locked together.

She'd drawn a bath on purpose. She knew he'd be thinking of their first time, of the hotel sheets and the exhilarating sensation of their bodies locked together in the warm water. But she didn't want to say anything. Instead she watched him consider before pulling off his shirt, shimmying out of his trousers and pants, and rolling his socks off his feet.

Harry leaned down and kissed her, drawing her up slightly to meet his lips. She did feel a sexual hunger, but it wasn't defined. She didn't know what she wanted, just had an ache of need as he traced his fingers gently along her neck. Catherine shifted forward to allow him to slip into the bath behind her, beneath her, and he pulled her close, onto his lap, under the warmth of the water. Harry's arms wrapped around her and his lips touched the top of her neck where she'd tied up her hair. She traced her fingers on his knobby knees, knowing she had to do this, if they were ever to be what they were before.

"I want to try," Catherine whispered. "But I'm afraid."

"I'd never hurt you," Harry said earnestly. "And if you ever wanted me to stop, I would."

"No," she said, turning slightly to look up at his green eyes. "No, Harry, this isn't about what I want. You need this. I need this, even though I don't think I can…." She licked her lips, searching for the right words.

"D'you want me on top?" he asked softly, caressing his fingers lazily across her skin. "Tell me what you need, but me in control?"

Catherine nibbled on her lip, trying to figure out a way to explain what she was thinking.

"Harry," she whispered, "before you belonged to me and I belonged to…." She nibbled on her lip again.

"I still belong to you," he said, pressing his temple to hers. "I'll always belong to you."

"So where do I belong?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

Harry considered her face for a moment, tracing his thumb along her lower lip as he put his words together.

"Maybe…we could belong to each other."

Catherine's lips twitched, but she kissed him, eager to do this one thing right. She couldn't be selfish anymore, not if she wanted her life back, not if she wanted to do the right thing.

As soon as they climbed out of the tub, she led him back to the bed, not bothering to put anything on. Harry said nothing, climbing on top of her, positioning himself between her legs as he stared down at her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, and he filled her. The sensation was not unpleasant, not foreign, and yet there was something strange and wrong about it. Her whole body seemed to twitch as he filled her, but he just kept murmuring over and over again how he loved her, working in and out until she calmed enough simply feel the rhythm of his words and body, and think of nothing except how much she loved him.

 **A/N: So, Jason's throwing one last bash, James thinks it's funny to make jokes about Caroline when no one else is laughing, and Catherine let's go of her most pernicious programming.**

 **Review Prompt: Any bets on who's having the first baby? Not just of the Blacks, but of the whole set of newlyweds and not-yet-weds.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will the transition in Kitty's sexuality play any role in the conflict of Part 3? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: I don't know that I'd call it a transition as much as a realization. I would say it augments the conflict more than plays a role in it. It's part of what leads to the conflict, but I would say her sexuality rather than her sexual orientation will be more of the problem.**

 **Q: Will we see any of [Catherine's] progress in terms of taking accountability for her choices? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: It depends what you mean by accountability. I will say there's a side-effect of everything that's happened, one that she might not care about herself, but that would be devastating to her father and Harry – though they would never dare tell her so. She recognizes how important it is to them, and she does what she can to fix it, and is even quite upset when she thinks it can't be fixed. I won't say what it is, but some of my good guessers have probably figured it out. As a clue I'll say it's something we've seen before in her extended family.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	147. Homecoming

**A/N: Here's Bonus 23!**

 **-C**

Jason sat in the feast, looking around at the Hufflepuff black and yellow, and thinking how nice it would have been for Catherine to see this. Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, but a glance at Caroline's face told him she wasn't pleased she and Aeson had balanced each other out for good and ill in points, allowing Hufflepuff to surge forward on the back of Rose Zeller's excellence and a general lull in misbehavior from the badgers.

"Last feast," Natalie said with a false cheerfulness. Jason stared at the food, unable to work up any appetite for it.

He and Laura had agreed to get their enterprise up and running, exchanging letters and having quiet meetings with each other and investors, drawing up a business proposal over the summer and putting it forward in earnest before Hogwarts was in session again in the fall. Jimmy had been provisionally accepted to the Auror training program, given quality NEWTs, and Cora was still on for her journalistic internship.

Dennis hadn't actually landed anything, as of yet. He kept saying he'd know when it hit him, he'd feel whatever was right when he stumbled upon it, but Jason knew this was code for having no idea what he wanted to do.

"Kevin's nervous," Natalie said softly. "Professor Snape put out feelers for potioneers and apothecaries that might be looking for an assistant, or apprentice. So far, he hasn't heard anything."

Jason would have offered up his sister as an option, but he knew Snape would have already thought of Catherine. If she was well enough, she was on the list. If she wasn't well enough, it wouldn't make sense to offer Kevin as a partner on the provision he'd start work when her heath improved. That wasn't fair to Kevin.

"I'm sure he'll find something," Jason said, picking at his pie, not really eating any of it. "He's considered one of the brighter students to go through in some time. Top of the year, and everything."

"Are you upset you got second?" she asked.

"Why would I be mad? I'm surprised I got it at all. We had a heavy competition for those top places in our year. I mean," he grinned, "top was always going to Kevin, but between you and me and Laura and Brontes, there was a very stiff competition for the top places. And Cora wasn't far behind us. No, I'm honored I pulled it out somehow. Anyone want to take bets on Aeson or Caro for next year?"

"Caro," Jimmy and Dennis chorused.

"Aeson," Cora said slowly, frowning. "I just don't think Caroline can be bothered to care, you know?"

Jason grinned, nodding. He quirked an eyebrow at Natalie, who was hesitating, torn between her desire to give an answer and her abhorrence for their gambling. Finally, she gave in to his charming smile and said, "Oh, Aeson, then."

"Good," he said brightly. "I'm going for my sister, naturally. Can't be so disloyal as to bet against her. She'd kill me in my sleep. Say…a galleon each?" They murmured agreement. "So, this time next year, we'll meet again, have some drinks, maybe dinner, and we'll dish out the winnings accordingly."

They all touched goblets to seal the deal, as handshakes across the feast would have been much more awkward.

/-/

"On the plus side," Damon said bracingly to a disappointed Caroline, "you won the Quidditch Cup."

"That was ages ago," Caroline growled.

He wasn't offended, really, that she was so sour about it. Caroline tended to get sour if things didn't work out as she planned. Tomorrow morning, he would remind her they had another year to win the House Cup, and win it in style, without Jason being part of the matter. She would be pleased with the insinuation she would be able to claim it without the copious points earned by her brother for his intelligence. For the moment, though, she was not to be swayed from her angst.

"On the positive side," Ourania said, bubbly and bright since becoming a single woman again, "the sticky toffee pudding is the best I've ever had. You really ought to have some, Caro."

Ourania seemed immune to the vicious glare Caroline was throwing at her, which Damon thought was rather impressive. Ourania could focus entirely on her food.

He'd been supportive, in his way, when she broke things off with Stewart Ackerley. She seemed renewed, and he'd be gone next year, anyway. She didn't need to spend her final year at Hogwarts tied to someone somewhere else. But he couldn't help thinking the impetus was somehow tied to Aeson's teasing, and Damon didn't like the way this settled in his gut. Ourania, like Caroline, had always been bold, confident, and completely unconcerned with what others thought of her choices. What would it mean if she suddenly let Aeson Lestrange's taunting change her mind on important things in her life?

But he could worry about it later, he thought, as McGonagall stood to speak, congratulating the graduating students, announcing the tops of the years, and imparting a few words of wisdom, the way she did each year. Damon tried to focus on the speeches, but every time he glanced up to the head table, he saw Professor Black, frowning thoughtfully at a spot in the air not quite in line with the Headmistress. Damon didn't have to read minds to know Caroline's father was miles away, probably in France, thinking about his eldest daughter. Perhaps he was going to visit her when term ended, maybe after a family dinner to congratulate Jason, but his mind would be on Catherine until he saw her again. It seemed the closer this day came, the more distant he grew, and Damon wondered what it would be like if something were ever to pull Caroline away from him, if he would perhaps be like Professor Black, present but mentally somewhere else, as he tried to pass days until she was back again.

/-/

Ourania walked back – or perhaps trudged back – to Gryffindor Tower with her twin and Caroline, and they opted to go up to Jason's dormitory – with his permission, obtained earlier, to drink in the privacy of his empty room. He and the other seventh year students were partying in Hogsmeade, with many professors turning a willful blind eye to the whole thing. Ourania pulled out firewhiskey and a bottle of brandy, watching Caroline conjure glasses.

"We'll be top of the tower next year," Ourania said with a grin. "It'll be weird, no Cora."

"Weirder for Cora," Damon said, eyebrows raised. "She'll be living with Mum and Dad, but without any of us. Rhea's traipsing all over the globe, and we'll be here. At least before we went to Hogwarts, we had each other."

Caroline wasn't listening to them, sitting on the bench below the window, frowning up at the stars.

"This'll be your room," Ourania said to her brother, gesturing around them. "Hey, which bed d'you reckon will be yours?"

"Dunno," he said, shrugging. "Doesn't really matter. Maybe this one, in the middle, if it's like it's been lately. Caro, you alright?"

Caroline hummed, not turning, not speaking. She had a half-empty glass of brandy, having already consumed much of what she'd been given. The twins exchanged a frown before Damon crossed to the window. Ourania watched as her brother whispered something to his melancholy girlfriend, a string of something sweet, no doubt, right into her ear. Caroline closed her eyes and hummed again, lifting her free hand to caress his neck as he leaned over her, wrapping an arm about her waist.

Ourania tried not to feel like she was looking in at her brother and best friend from the outside, but now Rose was courting Brontes, she really was alone, well and truly. She half-wished she hadn't let Aeson goad her into dissatisfaction, although she knew he'd been right about Stewart. They'd never really been equals in the relationship the way Cora and Jimmy were, and as much as he adored her, they were never going to have a relationship like Damon and Caroline.

No, Ourania needed an equal, she'd just yet to find one. The closest thing she'd had was the meaningless flirting she and Aeson sometimes did, no doubt when he tried to get under her skin about something or other, to mess with her head. It was all in good fun, and she had to admit, he was very good at verbal jousting, flirtatious or otherwise.

"More brandy?" she asked when Caroline polished off her glass.

"Maybe later," Caroline whispered, before turning to kiss Damon, until he was no longer able to stand behind her without swaying.

/-/

Severus slipped off to Selwyn Manor first thing in the morning for one final check-up and a private conversation with Catherine. She was sitting in the conservatory, staring at a stack of books and frowning pensively.

"You look much recovered," he said, considering the elegant robes she was wearing, nothing like the loose white and gray dresses she'd worn in France. Those had suited her well, because everything suited her well, but these robes allowed her radiance to shine through.

Catherine didn't look up as she said, "You have something to discuss with me."

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said, sitting beside her, lifting her hand to take a blood sample. Purely a formality – he and Lily had full confidence that she was fully detoxed from the drug. "One of my seventh year students, just graduated, is highly competent in Potions. Not quite to your level, of course, but he would benefit from an apprenticeship, and perhaps eventual partnership. I think he'd be self-sufficient, independent in his learning. I highly recommend you snap him up and offer him a job, before someone else does. It would take a strain off you. Something to think about."

"What's there to think about?" she sighed, rubbing her finger after he had the sample and began testing it. "You say he's a good bet, he's a good bet. I trust your judgment. Tell him to contact me for an imminent job offer. All clear?"

"Naturally," he said, and he was about to stand, but she placed a hand on his arm, and he froze.

Catherine swallowed and said, "I find myself…anxious about the possibility of a large group. Even my family."

"Yes," he said, wishing he could give her something to make it easier. Even a glass of wine…but it was too soon for that. "I'm afraid, Catherine, there are some things you will simply have to work through. Your family understands, and if you find yourself overwhelmed, no one will judge you."

She nodded, and Severus kissed her forehead before taking his leave, leaving her to her thoughts.

/-/

Kevin sat with Natalie in the Gryffindor compartment on the way back, Cora Prewett sitting on Jimmy Peakes's lap to make room for Kevin and Laura to join comfortably.

"Dad's with Caro and her friends," Jason said, smiling. "Brontes is with them, too, to be closer to Rose. He's a bit blue, but I think he'll be suitably distracted trying not to turn purple while Caro forces her boyfriend to feel her up right in front of him. Poor Damon, he tries to be polite and proper in front of my father, but Caro loves to cause mayhem."

"You think she'd go easy on him," Natalie said with a frown. "Given…."

Jason's face went dark as he recognized the mention of his elder sister's health concerns.

"Professor Snape said he'd write to me," Kevin said quickly, to draw conversation down a more positive direction. "The, uh, person he was thinking about, he said he thought he could get a guarantee of a job offer this morning, and he'd write to me tonight."

"Well, that's great news," Cora said brightly, drawing the conversation fully to the hopefulness of the future.

/-/

Harry watched Catherine smooth her hair and pin it over one ear so that it fell gracefully over the other shoulder, leaving her left shoulder bare. Had he not known everything she'd been through, he would have thought she was just his beautiful wife, the way she'd always been, graceful and elegant and perfect.

Any minute now, there'd be a mass of her family coming through the door, and her mother assured them she'd make Uncle Sirius come through first. Harry sat on the staircase above the top of the main stair, watching his wife as she took slow, deep breaths.

"I can hear them," she said, frowning. "I can feel them crossing the wards."

Harry sat up straighter, swallowing as he felt the tension rolling off her in waves. He wished he could make this easier for her, but he just held his breath, digging his nails into his palms.

The door opened, and Catherine gasped, struggling to breathe those slow, steady breaths she'd been focusing on. Harry couldn't see the door from his vantage point, but the utter stillness told him what he needed to know.

"Hi, Daddy," Catherine whispered, into the cavernous entryway, and Harry stood, glancing around the corner to see her father standing in the doorway, rubbing his jaw, stunned. He seemed to be trying to decide if she was real. Catherine slowly went down the steps and he fell to his knees, hugging her tightly to him as she froze in front of him. She petted his hair, and Harry could hear him murmuring something too soft to be heard from the top of the steps.

Perhaps he was crying, but if so, Harry would pretend he couldn't hear.

"Come on in," Aunt Cara said as Harry slowly came down the steps to see Jason and Caroline, stunned and uncertain, just outside the front door. "Dinner's ready, when you're all settled. Trunks upstairs, and wash and change, and we'll have dinner right away. There's a cake, Jason."

Jason nodded, glancing at his trembling father before going upstairs. Caroline was frowning, but she walked past without a glance at her sister.

"Harry," Aunt Cara said softly, "will you help me with the place settings?"

The place settings were done, but Harry understood that Catherine needed some time alone with her father, so he followed Aunt Cara into the next room. She poured him a glass of water and said, "He's been dying to go back to France, so this was quite a shock for him. He'll be fine by the time they come down for dinner."

"Caro didn't seem herself," Harry whispered. Aunt Cara nodded, and patted his shoulder fondly.

"Give them time. You weren't here right after her…problems in third year. Caro took it with the most difficulty, after her father. I imagine it will just take some time to process and reconnect. You've been gone for a long time, now."

"Yes," he said, watching Catherine lead her shaking father into the dining room. "It's good to be back."

/-/

Catherine sat by her father at dinner, and she didn't argue when he held her hand the whole time, squeezing just a little too tight for comfort every time he looked up at her. It was everything she thought it would be, coming home. She congratulated Jason and he told her about his enterprise with Laura Madley. Caroline had relatively few words, but she gave a brief story of her spectacular duel against Aeson in the Dueling Club.

"How long are you staying here?" her father said, curling up with her in the conservatory after the others had gone to bed, and Harry had gone to their room.

"We're staying until we find a house," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Uncle Rabastan was able to sell the old one easily, but Harry's going to the realtor tomorrow to get some showings arranged. He doesn't want to pick this one without my input. It might be a while, before we find something we want, or it could be quick. But I'll stay the summer, if you have me, at the very least. Like old times."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Kitty-Cat," he whispered, kissing her temple and tracing his fingers through her hair. "And everything with Harry is…good?"

"Yeah," she said, closing her eyes and smiling. "Strangely, everything with Harry is great. I don't deserve him."

"None of us deserve the ones we love the most," he said, and Catherine opened her eyes, glancing down at her father's slightly-rolled shirtsleeve, seeing the top of his pale Dark Mark, wondering if he spent his time thinking how he didn't deserve her because of that tattoo.

"I love you," she whispered, tracing his fingers along his chest, recalling all the times she'd been ill as a child, how he'd cradle her in his lap and read to her, holding her tightly and telling her how precious she was.

"I love you, too, darling."

"I…can't promise grandchildren right away," she said, wincing.

"That's fine, love," he said, chuckling. "I'd figured as much. I imagine Caro and Damon will be churning them out soon enough. No pressure."

/-/

Laura was surprised to get a letter before she went to bed that night – from Jason Black. It had some ideas for their business proposal, a list of possible regulations to read in full for research, and a question on whether she'd like to get coffee and talk it over in the next week or so.

She knew it was just business, but her heart was pounding madly as she thanked Merlin she'd passed her Apparition test and wouldn't need to rely on public transport or family to get her to the meeting. She quickly scribbled back that she'd be able to meet any time at all, and when was convenient for him? Laura sent the reply back with his owl and fell back onto her bed, heart racing, the world seeming to spin around her with possibilities.

 **A/N: So, the Blacks are back together, Caroline is surly, and Severus is playing career advocate once again.**

 **Review Prompt: Sirius is obviously keen to get things back to normal. Will the other Blacks be so easy to accept Catherine back into their life?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How will Harry and Kitty be able to ensure that he isn't isolated out again? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Obviously, it's a delicate balance. Communication is the big key, and they're starting to communicate properly. It's not going to be easy for them, but it's a learning process. Another is that Ryana is someone they trust, and someone who cares about both of them. She has no desire to ruin their marriage, or isolate them. She just wants to be a part of something, and to be close to Catherine. There are plenty of stories of triads on this site – although usually brothers or male friends sharing one woman. Think of it as something like that, where Ryana and Harry are sharing Catherine. They don't have any interest in each other except as friends, but they both care deeply about her. I'm not saying it's perfect, but every relationship in this story is different, and theirs is trying to find its feet in the midst of a lot of interference.**

 **Q: Where is Dumbledore? (Marcytherock)**

 **A: Hahaha, he's retired. Picture him in a cute little cottage on an isolated more, reading many books, joining the village's ten-pin bowling league, and practicing his knitting patterns. He keeps an eye on things, but he's tired of meddling. While he will not be returning in Part 3, one of our friends from Part 1 WILL be coming into the picture, and someone we've left behind in Part 2.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	148. Possible Insanity

**A/N: Here's Bonus 24! If y'all keep this up, we may be starting Part 3 sooner than I imagined!**

 **-C**

Caroline settled in the attic with a star chart and her collapsible telescope, frowning out the window at the stars. She decided it was worth her time to do some practice stargazing, just as she tried to get some extra Herbology in over the summer. In London, there was no point trying to see the stars, but here at the Manor, there was a sufficient lack of ambient Muggle light to see things properly. She was just setting up when she heard footsteps entering the attic, and a light tapping at the door.

"Hey, Jason," she said, licking her lips, not looking up from setting up her work.

"How'd you know it was me?"

She pursed her lips for a moment before she said, "Mum would never come all the way up here to look for me, and Harry and Daddy are too busy mooning over Kitty to wonder where I've gone."

"She was ill, Caro."

"Not really."

"Maybe not in the usual sense," he said, sighing. "But she needed to detox from a drug. That's an illness, too. And you know how hard it's been on our father. He wants to protect us from everything. He was the same when you were unconscious from your…incident in the forest. Kitty's just had more of them."

Caroline bit back her bitter words. She wanted him to understand the way she did, to know if she and Catherine had been stricken with a fatal disease, their father would be sitting by Catherine's bedside, and he probably wouldn't think there was anything lopsided about it. But Jason just wanted so badly to believe their father didn't have a favorite, and she didn't want to spoil the illusion for him.

"She was asking about you," Jason said gently. "And before you say something about asking why you weren't ogling her like everybody else, it wasn't like that at all. She wanted to know how your school was going, how your friends were, whether you'd decided on a career path yet. I didn't want to answer on your behalf. Caro, please come downstairs."

"I'll talk to her tomorrow," Caroline said, relenting slightly. "I really do want to practice. Jason, I…I didn't mean to snap at you. It's not your fault."

"No," he said. "It's not Kitty's fault, either. Sometimes…sometimes bad things happen. And it's not really anybody's fault. And even if it is…what good does it do now, apportioning blame?"

Caroline didn't know what to say, so she waited, pretending to continue her work as she listened to her brother's weight shifting on the creaky floorboards before he went back downstairs, leaving her alone in the mostly-dark attic with her work, her pride, and her stubbornness. Jason would make her excuses, and deftly, and she could pretend she hadn't been cold when morning came. She just wished she could stop feeling Jason was wrong. She wanted to resign herself to turning away from her mostly-chaotic sister, but Caroline couldn't forget how much had been taken from Catherine, before she really could make the destructive choices for herself.

Maybe Jason was right. Maybe assigning blame did no good.

/-/

Lily and James visited when Catherine had several days to accustom herself to larger groups of people again. James was just as boisterous as usual, and although Catherine left the room a few times to recover her composure, she was managing admirably.

"It's going to take time," Lily told Sirius, who was pleased, but anxious about the recovery of his daughter. "It's not going to be easy, on any of you. Have they found a place yet?"

"No, but they've started looking," Sirius said with a weak smile, watching through the conservatory window as Catherine and Harry strolled through the gardens, holding hands. "It's like I'm getting ready to let her go all over again."

Lily hummed, watching them. She was pleased to see them so comfortable together again, recalling with ease Harry's terror in the thought he'd lost her forever. Lily hadn't been sure, at the time, if the pair would ever find a way together again, and here they were, walking in the garden as though very little had changed. She wondered if Harry realized how Catherine looked at him when he was looking at something else, the adoration in her gaze and the way she would check frequently, as though he might vanish if she looked away too long.

"You'll have to go back to Hogwarts soon enough," Lily said with a smile. "She's staying here that long. Just think of the positives, for now."

/-/

Sirius was taken off-guard by Caroline's letter arriving, thinking mostly in terms of his eldest, forgetting for a moment he had a child going back for one more year. He was even more surprised when she opened her letter and a small badge rolled out of it.

"No!" Catherine said, lighting up brighter than he'd seen her since she came back. "Caro got Head Girl? Who's mad enough to think that's a good idea?"

"Severus, apparently," Cara said with a small smile, kissing Caroline on the cheek.

"Well," Sirius said, stunned and mildly afraid. "We need to celebrate. Tonight, Caro, is all about you. Let's have a proper party."

"I can't wait to write Aeson and gloat," Caroline said with a grin, leaping out of her seat. "He'll be insanely jealous."

"You shouldn't write first," Jason warned. "For all you know, he got Head Boy and you'll be gloating for nothing. Let him be the one who looks foolish, either way."

Caroline snorted and said, "Who'd be foolish enough to make us Heads together?"

Sirius was inclined to agree, but he was relieved when Caroline decided there was a logic to her brother's suggestion. She opted to let her cousin come to her, and poured her attention into planning her special dinner with her mother and Dobby. Sirius sighed, hoping this extra responsibility was enough to make his daughter responsible, not even more irresponsible.

"She'll be fine, Daddy," Catherine said, kissing his cheek when they were alone in the dining room. "Believe it or not, she's a million times more responsible than me."

He wanted to tell her that wasn't true, but whatever the reasons, Catherine wasn't wrong. So, Sirius kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly, enjoying the positive of her presence.

/-/

Brontes nearly dropped his toast when he saw what rolled out of his brother's back-to-school letter.

"Surely no one's that mental," Adrasteia said, eyes wide. "How, in the name of Merlin, did you end up being the one of us who got Head?"

"Can't wait to tell Caro," Aeson said with a triumphant smirk. "She's going to be so terribly jealous."

Brontes watched Aeson hurry upstairs before their father could tell him to finish his breakfast first. Adrasteia narrowed her eyes.

"Two galleons says he writes the Prewett girl first."

Brontes took the bet, ignoring his mother's disgust at their gambling at the breakfast table. It was the sort of thing Adrasteia would never have done a year ago, and Brontes simply enjoyed the change in her.

Never mind that she would lose the bet. However fascinated Aeson was with Ourania Prewett, he was not stupid enough to risk it ever getting out to Caroline that he'd written someone else first.

"I think we shouldn't take Caroline's lack of letter as some kind of confirmation she didn't get the badge," their father said softly. "Given the options in their year, I wouldn't think it could go to anyone else."

Brontes quickly took a bite of his toast to keep his initial response from spilling out. The last thing he wanted was to be disrespectful to his father. Never mind the fact Hogwarts would probably not survive Caroline and Aeson as Heads together, Rose Zeller was a more than capable option for the job. He didn't think it was biased of him to think so.

He finished his breakfast as quickly as possible and went upstairs, lingering at his brother's doorway for a moment before asking.

"Did you write Caro first, or Ourania?"

"Caro, of course," Aeson said with a snort. "I don't have a death wish."

Brontes nodded, satisfied he'd get the money by lunch, and he ambled to his own room. He had a letter he wanted to send to Rose, strategically not mentioning the letters in hope she could take the subtle nudge as an indicator he wanted the news on what he presumed was her new badge.

As if he needed excuses to write her.

/-/

Rabastan knew he was right when he heard his son's strangled sound of horror from his study. It was impossible to tell where in the house Aeson was at the time, but Rabastan would have guessed it was his room.

He turned his attention back to the sculpture of Catherine, which he would present to her now as a housewarming gift, once she moved into her new home – wherever it would be. It gave him plenty of time to finish the sculpture, and admire the sculpture, before he had to gift it, and would give him an occasion to give it to her when Delia wouldn't be nosing in. After the candid conversations he'd had recently, and given Delia's proclivity to tell the whole truth at the worst possible moment, Rabastan didn't think it was something worth risking.

He ran his fingers along the clay jaw, feeling the curve of the facial lines. It wasn't quite right, but he couldn't put his finger on how to fix it, so to speak. Too steep, or too shallow? He'd looked at her jaw for years, and still, it had been so long since he'd seen her, he couldn't recall a fully clear picture to his mind.

/-/

Ginny sat with Catherine in the Selwyn Manor sitting room, smoothing her skirt and watching the steam rise off her tea. The two young women had said very little to each other, but there was so much between them.

"I've already talked to Ryana," Ginny said, frowning. "She said you've offered her a…job?"

"She'll keep house for us," Catherine said, her voice smooth and unconcerned, the way it always was when she lied. "It's the least we can do after…everything. And if there's anything I can do for you, please, just ask."

Ginny said she was fine, but she couldn't help wondering what she had to give Harry for him to agree to Ryana living at their place.

/-/

Jason found Caroline in the attic, still stunned from the letter. He hated being right, mostly because he hated the told-you-so's, and he loved his sisters. Things had been hard on Caroline, and even her party had been usurped with the knowledge that she and Aeson would be Heads together.

"You were right," she said softly, staring out the window at the trees. "Good idea, my not being the foolish one, crowing."

"I know it's not the easiest thing," Jason said, sitting beside her, "but being the mature one may make dealing with him easier. Someday, we all must grow up. If we don't we…."

He licked his lips, shrugging, even though she wasn't looking up at him.

"We end up like Kitty," Caroline whispered. "If we don't catch up with life, life catches up with us. Is that it?" Jason hummed, and Caroline reached out toward him without turning to look at him. He sat beside her, taking her hand and kissing it. "Have you noticed Daddy's started biting on his thumbnail when he thinks we're not looking?"

"He gave up cigarettes," Jason said. "I think it's his replacement, when he's anxious. Happy as he is to see her, having Kitty here makes him terribly anxious."

"Kitty tugs on her hair sometimes. Same thing?"

"Yeah, apparently she couldn't smoke or drink while she was recovering, and when she found out Dad quit…. Well, she's doing it with him."

Caroline nodded, resting her head on Jason's shoulder. He wasn't sure if she'd take any of his words to heart, but he hoped so. For the sake of Hogwarts, if nothing else. And someday, for her own good, she would have to find her footing in the adult world. It did hurt to start now.

/-/

Damon nearly dropped the letter from Caroline when he realized what this meant. He passed the letter to Ourania, knowing they weren't keeping any secrets from each other. The references to sexual things were nothing his twin couldn't see, even if she would giggle about it.

"No," Ourania said, grinning and horrified. "No, they can't both be!"

"It's a wonder either are," Damon said, shrugging. "I'd have thought Rose, for a start."

"Oh, yea of little faith," Ourania teased. "Seriously, though, what kind of chaos is this going to be? Why d'you think he wrote me?"

Damon said nothing, shrugging. If he spoke, the lie would be obvious. He had a very good idea of why Aeson was writing Ourania, more than perhaps even Caroline. Even if Aeson hadn't fully realized why, to someone watching from the outside, it was obvious. He just wondered what he would do about Aeson fancying his sister.

It wasn't that Ourania couldn't take care of herself. Apart from Caroline, he knew no one so capable. It was more about how cruel Aeson had been about Ourania's relationship with Stewart Ackerley. Not that he'd been fond of Ackerley, but he'd had his merits. Dull, sure, but something about how Aeson's input about the matter caused an eventual change in Ourania's behavior…

"I've been thinking about what I'm going to wear when we get our books," she said, opening her closet door while he leaned back in her beanbag chair. "What d'you think of the blue one?"

"As opposed to?" he asked, not looking up. He knew the blue dress she meant.

"Well, there's always the green one. Or maybe…black and white?"

She'd been wearing the same three dresses practically all summer, basically on a rotation. He didn't glance up.

"What about the yellow?" he said dully, rubbing the end of his nose at an itch.

"But it's so formal."

"It looks lovely on you, and you won't want to wear it on the train."

At this, she hummed her agreement and pulled out the yellow dress, hooking the hanger on the molding above the closet doorway.

"Lipstick?" she asked, moving to her vanity.

Damon sighed, looking up from his letter and frowning at his twin.

"You know, there are some things you need to figure out for yourself," he said, tetchy. "Next year, if all goes well, I'm going to be getting a place with Caro and I won't be here to help you sort out your fashion choices."

He wished he hadn't said anything, because she immediately began questioning him about whether he was thinking of proposing.

/-/

Sirius sat on the foot of his bed, staring at the wall, running his teeth along the edge of his thumbnail. Cara didn't bother trying to make him stop anymore, which was good of her. If students noticed him doing it, they hadn't said, and none of his children had pointed it out, either. Perhaps they realized what a thin thread he was hanging by.

"D'you reckon I didn't make enough of a fuss over Caro?" he asked anxiously as Cara came in from brushing her teeth.

"I think you were fine," Cara said, frowning. She placed her hands at his temples and kissed his forehead gently. "Anyway, the hardest part for her, I think, is having to share her throne with her cousin. She's had very little she hasn't had to share with her siblings. It would have sat better with her, not having to share with Aeson."

"They could always compete for who's a better Head."

"Don't you dare suggest it," she said, laughing. "You know they would. And you've always said, the Head Boy and Girl need to work together, not compete with each other."

Sirius hummed, taking his thumb out of his mouth and tracing his hands along Cara's smooth, warm arms. Even all these years later, he couldn't see how he possibly deserved her.

"I feel ancient," he said, frowning. "Too old to be a father."

"Well, your youngest is about to graduate," Cara said, massaging his temples with graceful fingers. "Perhaps you'll be a grandfather soon enough. Anyway, I don't think you're old. I don't feel old."

"You're younger than me," he teased.

"I'll always be younger than you, my love," she said, kissing his forehead again. "Doesn't mean we can't grow old together. Let's take our time about it, shall we?"

/-/

Brontes rolled over, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rose Zeller, and he felt he was in danger of simply thinking of her as Rose. He didn't want that, not until she was ready to take his name. Because he felt that the moment he allowed himself to think of her familiarly, he would allow himself to think of her…physically.

He'd never placed store by looking at dirty magazines or attempting to look up the skirts of girls at school, not like so many of his classmates. It wasn't that he wasn't interested, but rather he wanted the mystery of the chase, of not knowing until he'd completed his task and successfully courted and wooed the woman he wanted to spend his life with. To allow his mind to wander now, especially with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with….

But he closed his eyes, and there were her lips again, her eyes adoring and sweet as she looked up at him, and he knew if he just focused his mind on it, he could look down and strip away the layers of her clothing, easy as breathing.

He opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling, horrified such a thought would occur to him.

This wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. Brontes rolled out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom, determined a cold shower would solve his problems. If it would only help him sleep, it would be worth the discomfort.

 **A/N: So, Caro and Aeson are Head Boy and Girl, Catherine and Sirius replace their addictions with habits, and siblings act like siblings.**

 **Review Prompt: So, will this be chaos, or will Caro and Aeson mature to work together? Has Severus lost his mind, or is this the most brilliant thing he's done?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Do [Draco and Astoria] even love each other, or is it merely an understanding? (Guest)**

 **A: There are all kinds of love, and as I've been saying quite a lot lately, I've tried to portray the great personal differences in people's relationships in this story. Draco and Astoria do love each other, but they're both quite quiet, reserved people compared with the others. Closer to the Brontes and Rose situation. There is a matter of arrangement, of course, as it was a courtship and not a dating relationship. But Draco and Astoria not only love each other deeply, they also understand each other. They don't have any of the fire and passion and mess in some of the other relationships, but this allows them stability. Trust me, in Part 3, you'll see a lot more of what Astoria means to Draco.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	149. Adulting

**A/N: So, here's Bonus 25! We're about to get a glimpse of the last Hogwarts year – the last year of Part Two, with less than ten chapters left.**

 **-C**

Euan Abercrombie put his things in a compartment with friends and went up to the Prefects compartment, starting at the sight of Caroline Black and Aeson Lestrange sitting with their heads together, discussing something in the corner. As if that weren't strange enough….

"You two got Head Boy and Girl?" he asked, puzzled, concerned. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Caroline sharply. "Now, sit down and wait patiently, Euan."

He was startled, but he did as told, sitting next to a highly bemused Anastasia Barbary of Slytherin. They exchanged nervous glances, and Anastasia shrugged, as if to say this was what they had to deal with, come what may.

Perhaps Professor Snape had lost his mind. Perhaps all the stress of whatever was going on with the Blacks and the Potters, all the extra brewing he had to do for some legal case, perhaps he'd gone off his rocker. Barbary was scratching her jaw, frowning as the other Prefects filed in and took seats, and she seemed to shrink slightly in her seat as Aeson and Caroline stood, the train just pulling out of the station.

"Right," Caroline said, taking the reins in what Euan assumed would be a year-long battle for dominance. "Welcome back. Expectations are what you already know. Patrols, regular meetings, and we'll be doing periodic patrols of the train corridor. We'll be doing up a rota for nightly patrols at the school, so if you have requests for where or when or who you want to patrol with, or perhaps each of those in negative, just let one of us know and we'll keep you all appraised of any changes at the meetings."

"For the default," Aeson said, leaning back in his seat, "we're going to put you in your house and year pairs, just until we find a more comfortable way of working. Obviously, a lot of us are in Quidditch, and we're all going to have a high level of expectation on us academically, so we'll try to balance those things when we organize the schedule. For example, Sunday patrols will not be done by sixth years to start, as almost every sixth year has multiple Monday courses. Sunday nights will be covered by seventh years not in Astronomy and fifth years. We'll talk to Tabatha Bagman, and Linos, we'll need to know what your plans are for Quidditch practices. Caro wants a complete list of your activities before you leave, as well, so we can try to balance everybody's responsibilities reasonably. Any questions?"

Euan was stunned. Not only were the speeches reasonable and responsible, but he felt they were more thorough and more organized than either of the other speeches he'd sat through as a Prefect. Somehow, for the moment, anyway, Caroline and Aeson were taking the role very seriously, and not in competition. They were…working together, and they were doing it well. He didn't understand how it was possible, and yet, here they were.

He made a list of his commitments for them so he could go back to his friends, but all the while he was writing, he thought perhaps Snape hadn't lost his mind after all. Maybe.

/-/

Ron carried a stack of Patented Daydream Charms out to the shelves, and he nearly dropped them when he heard a pair of customers whispering, saying the name Potter.

"How scandalous," one of the customers said in a low voice. "But I thought she'd just been ill."

"Well, my cousin, you know, Bernie? He's got a friend who's got a sister in the Ministry, and she said it was much darker than all that. Apparently, Catherine Potter has a drug habit. Remember, there was the drug dealer who was found murdered, apparently by one of her customers?"

"Yeah, I do recall something about it."

"Well, Bernie's friend's sister thinks the customer may have been Catherine Potter. I mean, they would have been at school at the same time, and Catherine Potter was something of a wild thing. And don't forget, her parents have both killed people."

"In a war."

"If we start poo-pooing murder just because it happens during wartime, we're not a civilized people. And who says they stopped then? The man who supposedly attacked Catherine Potter when she was in school, he was never found."

"I thought there was a trial, went away for murder?"

"No, no, not that one. The man from Durmstrang who assaulted her. Karamov? Karmeloff? I don't remember his name. But I'm certain they didn't find him. Or his body."

Ron had heard enough. He strolled right into the pair of gossiping witches and said, with a tight smile, "Can I help you ladies find anything today?"

"Oh," the more reserved one said, smiling nervously. Perhaps she thought he'd heard them, or perhaps she was simply nervous about being in a joke shop. It was a common reaction from parents. "My son wanted one of those, erm, daydream things? I can't seem to find them anywhere."

Ron glanced in the other woman's basket and saw a great many packets of Fever Fudge.

"Certainly, madam," Ron said, gesturing across the store. "They're over on this side. I've just restocked them. And please, let me know if there's anything else I can help you find."

The women thanked him, and he put out some more Fever Fudge, knowing the chatty woman had taken half what was out on the shelves. He didn't want to think what she planned to do with it all.

As soon as the women had gone, he had Claire, his shop assistant, take the store for a minute while he went up to his flat. He rubbed his hands on his thighs and thought about what to do. He'd assumed Catherine hadn't really been ill, in the strictest sense, and it had meant Ginny wasn't ill in the strictest sense, either. But whatever had happened, whatever was done….

These kinds of whispers couldn't be tolerated. He would have to call Harry, and he would have to do it quickly.

/-/

Catherine was looking at a house with Harry, in a small neighborhood in King's Heath. It was a nice place, thoroughly Muggle, with a home not unlike the house he'd grown up in. She thought the place was nice, similar enough to their old house, without being similar enough in floorplan to cause them emotional distress. But she knew it wasn't the right house.

When they finished the tour in the master bedroom and the realtor left them to talk it over, Harry seemed pleased with the place, smiling and chipper, and she just stared out the window at the thoroughly ordinary street with thoroughly ordinary housewives jogging by, chattering away.

"Nice place, eh?" he said as he approached her, grinning.

"Nice, yeah," she said softly.

He blinked.

"Cat, what's wrong?"

"Harry," she said softly, "I…I think this isn't what I want."

He licked his lips and frowned slightly, looking around the room. It was a nice room, good size, with a proper master bath attached, double sinks and a bath and shower and everything. The closest were big enough, as neither of them were especially high-maintenance when it came to clothes, and closets could easily be expanded with magic, as needed.

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "How do you mean? I mean, what about it isn't right? I guess…I don't really know what we're looking for if this isn't it. Neighborhood? Floor plan? Erm, not enough counter space? I mean, I know they were small, but I'll do all the cooking. You wouldn't even notice. Dad makes do with almost no counter space."

Catherine laughed one sharp, small chuckle as she thought of Uncle James's wonders with a fairly small, moderate kitchen.

"This is perfect in so many ways," she whispered, tugging at a strand of her hair. "If we were looking for the same thing we had, you know? A piece of your childhood. But I want something…more like what we had in France."

"A beachside villa?" he said with a nervous laugh. "Cat, we can't just conjure a beachside villa in the middle of England. I mean, unless you don't want to live in the middle of England?"

"It's not the beach," she sighed. "It's the seclusion. It doesn't even have to be big or grand or whatever. Like how Luna and Ginny grew up. The house is less important than the privacy. I want a place…where we can have a mile between us and any neighbors, where people don't jog past and we could get a dog and just have it roam the grounds, and our yard was our own without nosy neighbors. D'you know what I mean?"

Harry nodded slowly, crossing to touch her cheek.

"Yeah, I do know what you mean. And…it's not a bad idea, all told, if we can find what we want. We could try it. We can talk to the realtor, look at something different. It's not like the commute would be any longer to work, and a bigger lot would give me more to do while you're at work. You're sure it's what you want?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her arms and frowning at the cars passing on the street. "Yeah, I am. Let's do it right this time. Think of all the things we want, not just…not just right now."

Harry kissed the corner of her mouth and held out his hand for hers. She no longer hesitated before taking his hand, and they walked down to tell the realtor their thoughts, knowing it would take a little more time for her to find their new specifications. But it didn't matter. They had the run of Selwyn Manor, until they found the right place. They could take their time, think it over, talk it through, and build a perfect house if one didn't already exist. Whatever it took.

/-/

Laura paced the atrium at the Ministry, feeling her heart pound frantically. She'd not thought they'd have a proposal in so quickly, but she and Jason worked well together, and between her long-time research into the issues and Jason's connections, everything seemed to fall into place.

Jason was watching her pace from the bench, sipping a tea he'd got at the cafeteria. She began to tug at her fingers, wondering what could be taking so long when Jason surprised her by reaching out and grabbing her hand, holding it steady in front of him, calling a halt to her pacing as she looked at him, astonished.

"Relax," he said with a small smile. "It's not going to make things go faster or better if you wear yourself into the ground. Sit with me."

She hesitated, but his eyes were kind and warm, and she decided he wasn't wrong. She sat beside him on the bench, and she was surprised when he didn't let go of her hand, but continued to hold it. Laura's heart began to race for a different reason, and she tried to relax, to enjoy the sensation of his fingers on hers. He set his tea down on the bench arm and turned to her, smiling.

"Whatever Draco comes up with," he said, "We've got a solid proposal. At worst, we'll just have to make some changes. And I think it's far more likely we'll get approval. D'you want tea?"

"Oh," she said, smiling nervously. "N-no, I'm fine."

"Sure? Because it's not a big deal to get some."

"No, no, I'm fine. Let's just…sit."

/-/

Caroline sat with Damon during the feast, but her mind was already on the meeting she would have with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall after dinner. The other Prefects would usher students back, the fifth year Prefects led back first years, and the Head Boy and Girl met with the Head and Deputy Head to discuss the coming year, the new Prefects, and the plan for moving forward. Damon was likely to be asleep when she came back, so she wouldn't bother trying to sneak into his bed, tempting as it was to do so.

"D'you know what you're doing tomorrow?" Damon asked as he passed her the chicken legs. "Only, I thought we might take a walk if the weather's good, before we buckle down on our projects in earnest."

"Yeah, that's fine," she said, checking her watch before she took a couple of legs and passed them across to Ourania. "I'll have to meet with Aeson right after lunch to finalize the Prefect rota, but otherwise, I'm totally free. Maybe right after breakfast? The dew can be nice this time of year, provided it's just dew."

"Yeah, that's great," Damon said, a little too quickly. She knew he was disappointed, not for her being Head Girl, but that it was going to take a large chunk of time out of her already-busy schedule.

On top of NEWTs and all those demanded, Caroline was running a Quidditch team, co-Captaining the newest branch of the Dueling Club (a competitive branch) with Aeson, and she'd already agreed to be the Charms Club Captain because Professor Flitwick asked so nicely, and he was hard to say no to. But Caroline would find the time. She always did.

/-/

Lily swore with frustration. She'd been working to start a new formula – the hardest part of any potions project – with the intent of curing lycanthropy altogether, but so far, the results were not promising. The wholesale changes to genetic code were the sort of thing better combatted by a spell, and yet she'd found no spell with the staying power required to call it a true cure, and not simply a treatment. She rubbed her forehead and frowned as she heard a knock at the front door.

"Come in!" she called out, setting aside her analysis documents. She came out to the front of the house and was surprised to see Harry there, and without Catherine.

"Mum," he said, tiredly.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, trying not to panic. "Where's Kitty?"

"Sleeping. She's got friends coming to the manor for breakfast, so she wanted an early night. Mum, d'you ever regret that you settled in the village? Is there anything about it you don't like?"

"Oh, everywhere has its challenges," she said, relaxing when she realized it was just about house-hunting. "The village hasn't always been idyllic. It's quiet, and there is a contingency of wizards and witches about. But some of the Muggles have proven…less-than-superb neighbors, at times."

"Kitty thinks she wants somewhere more…secluded," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Lily led him to the kitchen and put the kettle on. "With a plot of land, in the countryside somewhere. The thought's nice, and I do love Selwyn Manor and everything. We could enjoy a house like that. It's not like we couldn't afford it, but…. Is it really necessary?"

"Well," his mother said, frowning, "try to remember between what happened at your last home and the domestic you two managed to get embroiled in when you were at school…perhaps it would be better to go completely different. She was raised in seclusion, both in London and at the manor. Seclusion, but with large houses. I know you're comfortable here, but would it be so bad, having your own piece of the world? It may be she won't be able to get comfortable in a village or suburb again. I may also prove that a small house makes her feel claustrophobic, after everything. You haven't considered moving to Marseille permanently?"

"No," he said, quickly. "Neither of us is aces with French, and she still wants to work in Brum. Besides, between the wedding and the…convalescence, I think that house is better left as a holiday property, leave it to build a wealth of positive associations, not let the weight get tangled with any domestics we'll have."

Lily nodded, thinking that the villa had become for Catherine, in a small way, what the manor was for Cara. She poured Harry a cup of tea and told him that whatever they found, what mattered was they would be together, and Harry agreed, although his shoulders were still tense. He didn't mind having a large house, so Lily didn't understand what his hesitation was. Perhaps, she supposed, he wanted to raise his children in a house like he'd grown up in. But there were no children yet, and Catherine's psyche was still not healed. Given time, they'd find the right answer.

/-/

James didn't have Caroline in class until Thursday afternoon, and by then she'd already had her father's class. But he took a moment to express his congratulations at her badge, and he bit back his words about being impressed with the maturity she'd shown. It was still early in the year, and she and Aeson had plenty of time to cause a grand disaster.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do when you leave?" he asked her while she was packing up her books.

"Erm, I've got a few ideas," she said, shrugging. "I think I've got a shot at a Quidditch career, at least something of one. Harry thinks so to, said it this summer. But I know that's not long-term, so I'm working on what I can do with my mind as well. I really don't fancy dueling, not as a job like Rhea does. I asked her about it in a letter, and I don't like the sound of the lifestyle. If there's one thing this mess with Kitty has shown me, there's a lot good about stability. I don't want to make Damon chase after me all over the world, without a guaranteed standard of living. I've got a few subjects I could keep up, research and hobbyism, you know. Help me jump back in when my sport career is over."

"You should consider Transfiguration," he said, earnestly. "You've got a talent for it, and I know from experience, it's something you could pick up and put down pretty easily. I've been thinking about your Animagus project, and I think we're onto something big here. Yes, it's helped you tame your core, but the speed you managed to accomplish it, that's not something to sniff at."

The bell rang for the start of the next period. He licked his lips and said, "Just think about it, Caro. We'll talk. Keep your options open."

She nodded and thanked him before she left. Realistically, she had four subjects she could continue in earnest scholarship, counting his, but he was selfish enough to hope she'd choose his. With Catherine going for Potions and Jason chasing off after Muggle Studies and History, it would be nice to have one of Sirius's children take after the bold, complex tradition of Transfiguration, like a Marauder ought to do.

He snapped up the notes she'd left on scratch paper, while she was working out the equations for a very complex Switching Spell she was toying with. Yes, she could do whatever she wanted in this field. It was just a question of motivation and desire.

/-/

Fabian turned over the file, one of the druggies he'd put up for consideration for the murder of Padma Patil. The opportunity in front of him was enormous, to bury someone else for the death, seal off the loose ends so Harry's name was never in question. There would be a trial, probably, unless he could convince the man to sign away his right….

Gideon's voice, filled with disappointment, echoed in Fabian's head as these thoughts ran away in his mind, and Fabian realized if he did such a thing, he'd have crossed a line there would be no returning from.

And he didn't know what to do. He had a few months, as the drug charges were easy enough. An automatic six months in Azkaban for Fabian to decide and maybe work on the murder charge. He needed to talk to Sirius, and he needed to talk to Dorcas, and he needed to spend a long time looking in the mirror. Because no matter how terrifying it was, he couldn't stop thinking it was the right thing to do, papering over the cracks.

 **A/N: So, Caroline and Aeson are off to a surprisingly mature start, Catherine and Harry's house-hunt takes a left turn, and Jason and Laura have submitted a proposal.**

 **Review Prompt: What do you suppose each of the Black children's favorite foods are? Like, favorite meal or entrée.**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will [Caroline] ever start acting out more and more in order to get attention? (Emmy)**

 **A: Great question! Consider her acting out through her childhood and early adolescence. That was the basic goal of her wild, rebellious behavior. She was trying, in her own way, to be more like her elder sister to get attention, and she took it to extremes. That didn't exactly work, and watching how Catherine turned out, it's actually matured Caroline quite a bit. She may end up the most well-balanced of the Black children, in the end. Jason's in for quite a whirlwind in Part 3.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	150. Frayed

**A/N: Here's Bonus 26!**

 **-C**

Halloween, Dorcas called a meeting, on Gideon's request, at Grimmauld Place. Cora was still living with them, Jason was busy setting up the foundation with Laura Madley, and Harry and Catherine were at Selwyn Manor.

Cara passed around tea for everyone. Sirius, Severus, Remus, and James arrived just after the Hogwarts feast. Rabastan and Narcissa slipped in first, being excessively punctual. Lily, Fabian, and Gideon helped Cara pass around the milk and sugar, as it hadn't been practical to fix everyone's tea individually.

"It seems our little group gets larger by the day," Sirius said darkly. "What's this about, Gideon?"

"The whisperings," Gideon said softly. Every set of shoulders in the room tensed. "I was never fond of how we sorted out the matter of Padma Patil's death, the moving of the body or anything. But I went along, and it seemed alright. But now we've had a lot of whisperings saying the death might actually be connected with Catherine's mystery illness, and some of the rumors are worse than the truth, if such can be possible. I know I'm not the only one who's heard them."

"Ron mentioned something to Harry about it," Cara said softly. "People gossiping at the joke shop."

"Cedric Diggory was asking a lot of questions of Draco," Narcissa said softly. "About Catherine's illness. Leaving it so nebulous was a mistake, I think. It's allowed loose ends to fray all over the place, and you know how sensationalistic the collective wizarding opinion is. If we don't find a way to separate the two things, permanently, it'll all have been for naught. And that poor girl, that poor Parvati Patil, will be suffering in vain."

Dorcas watched the situation settle on the room at large, waited for someone to present a solution. Typically, after the problem was presented and a few mad ideas were tossed out, Severus would speak with a voice of reason and smooth over the madness with a practical approach. But this time, there was silence. A long, painful, heavy silence.

Finally, Fabian whispered, "I've got a possible solution. It'll be messy, probably illegal, certainly laborious. But if it goes well, it would shut things up, properly, this time."

"Go on," Sirius said.

Sirius had gone paler and paler with each suggestion of the problem at hand, and by the time he said these words, he looked ill, almost ghostly.

"One of the drug users we put up as a possible suspect," Fabian said softly. "He's sitting in Azkaban, has been for a couple of months. He's got four months left on sentence, and while he's there, I can find a way to get him to plead guilty for the murder, sign off his right to a trial. It would be…complicated, especially as he's already in prison, but from the right angle, it's possible."

Gideon shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Dorcas felt ill. What they'd already done, she could live with. They'd never hurt anyone innocent. This drug user might not be innocent, but he certainly wasn't guilty of murder. Could she, in good conscience, consign a man to a life in Azkaban for a crime he certainly did not commit?

"That would only be half the problem," Severus said softly. "If we seal off loose ends, especially going to such lengths, we have to seal off all of them."

/-/

Linos groaned, flicking a little balled up bit of parchment at a dozing Euan Abercrombie across the Prefect meeting table. Caroline Black had just asked if anyone had ideas for how to patrol during Christmas, who was staying behind, that sort of thing. He hadn't been planning to stay for the holiday, but no one was jumping forward to do patrols.

"I suppose I could stay," Anabella Whitehorn said slowly. "I mean, if you need me. My family didn't have any specific plans."

"I'll stay," Linos said, knowing he could work well with Anabella, at the very least.

"I'll check with my family," the fifth year girl from Hufflepuff said brightly.

"Right," Aeson said, rubbing his temples. "That's enough for now. We'd like to have another person or two, if it can be arranged, but if not, you'll just have to do nightly patrols. Obviously, the fewer people staying, the easier it will be."

"Let's look at the next item," Caroline said, ticking a box on her list. Linos wished, just a little bit, that Aeson and Caroline would create even a morsel of chaos. As it was, they were just being terribly boring drill sergeants.

/-/

"I think it's the one," Catherine said, sitting down with the pictures of houses and estates they'd been touring over the past month. She pointed to an admittedly large estate in Nottinghamshire, Muggle owned for generations, although a surprisingly low in history, which would make it easier to hide. "Having protections and spells put up would be a relatively simple matter, and Daddy says he'd help me make wherever we choose Unplottable. I'd rather not be…pestered."

Harry traced his fingers across the picture, looking at the description below to refresh his memory. A beautiful house, in truth his emotional favorite of all the ones they'd looked at since changing their requirements. If it were simply a matter of picking the one he liked best, he would have to agree with her. If he looked at the decision practically, however….

"Kitty, we don't need eleven thousand square foot of house."

"There's a lot of garage in that," she said, shrugging. "And the property is gorgeous."

Gorgeous, sizable, but not so big it was daunting. He'd never been much for gardening and Herbology, and it was certainly manageable.

"Kitty, three two-car garages?"

"We're going to have a couple of cars, anyway," she said, shrugging. "And I could convert one of those into a lab. Besides, that master bath was perfect."

Incredibly perfect. As soon as they stepped into it, he'd imagined taking baths with her, long soaks together after she came home from work. Every day, if he could talk her into it. Potentially the greatest selling point, in fact. And a pool out back, to boot.

"The closet is a size of a bedroom," he sighed, as though this were a negative. No, they didn't need a large closet, but wasn't it easier if they already had one? He was sure she would make this argument, but she saw through his reluctant arguments, his half-hearted practicalities.

"Did you not like the house?" she asked him, looking up with raised eyebrows.

Harry hesitated.

She knew he loved the house, and he'd especially liked the pool behind the walk-out basement, and the fact there was a basement-level room for Ryana, so he didn't have to be anywhere near where Catherine and Ryana would sleep together, while he was out with friends. His eyes flickered down to the floorplans, then back up to her face, trying to decide if she was making a reasonable argument, or whether he was just too inclined to go with his emotional response to the house.

"If we have any children," Catherine said, gesturing to the second-story floor plan, "they'll have bedrooms, and if we have a kid or two, we'll still have guest space if friends or family visit, without needing to add on rooms. It's nowhere near the size of the manor, Harry. It's not so much bigger than what we discussed, actually. If you can't think of a proper reason not to, I think we should take it."

/-/

Jimmy was exhausted when he arrived back at his flat. The Auror training program was excruciating, and he felt he hardly had any time with Cora. They tried to squeeze out every little bit they could, but he wasn't holding his breath any given day that they'd see each other. He shared a flat with Dennis, who was still floating as much as anything. Dennis kept the flat tidy – as much as he was able – and he did much of their meal preparation.

"Drink?" Dennis asked, not looking up from his paper.

"Yes," Jimmy groaned, stretching his arm. "I pulled muscles today I didn't even know could be pulled. Dawlish was not impressed."

"I'm impressed," Dennis said with a grin. "Hey, Cora called this morning, asked if you thought you'd be available for lunch with Laura and Jason and Nat and Kevin later in the week. The rest of them are more flexible. Kevin said he's got big news he wants to share with everyone."

"Oh," Jimmy said, frowning and rubbing his forehead. "Erm, what's my day off?"

"Friday."

"Go ahead and say Friday. I'll just have to not sleep through it. You'll wake me?"

"Of course. Hey, I was thinking we could do a kind of film night on Thursday. Or…are you probably going to want an early night?"

"Sorry, I'll have to pass," Jimmy sighed. "If I've got to have lunch, there's no way I'll be able to keep my eyes open for a film night. Next week, maybe. Can I invite Cora?"

"If she's available, the more the merrier," Dennis said cheerfully.

The one great blessing of Dennis's not working was he was so starved for human company, he never objected to being a third or fifth or seventh wheel. He just wanted people around. Dennis passed Jason a glass of firewhiskey, and returned to reading his newspaper.

"I think I'm going to take a steaming hot shower," Jimmy sighed. "Anything you need from me before I sleep tonight?"

"Nah, you're good," Dennis said, grinning. "Hey, think I'd be a good Auror?"

"Honest answer? They'd chew you up and spit you out."

Dennis's laugh was a sign of the strength of their friendship, that Jimmy could be brutally honest and Dennis would just laugh it off. Jimmy downed the drink, set the glass on the counter, and trudged to the shower with a stiff gait and aching muscles all over his body. If he could have made them himself, he'd have kept analgesics in the flat, but his skill was negligible, at best, and he didn't feel like going all the way to wizarding Birmingham to buy from Jason's sister. Didn't seem right to buy from anyone else.

/-/

Lily agreed with Severus, they needed to find an explanation for Catherine's illness more medically sound, not inviting more questions than it answered. The trouble was, she couldn't think of anything too understandable that would fill the gaps.

"We do need to think of something," Remus said softly. "The other day, I heard someone suggesting she'd been bitten."

"Bitten?" Sirius said, startled. "By what?"

"Oh, not werewolves," he said, smiling a rueful smile. "Lily's done a wonderful job making people accept lycanthropy is no longer a serious threat. No, the trouble is, vampires are still a problem. Between her already pale skin tone, the isolation, the fact some of her friends were…affected…and the lingering rumors students never seem willing to give up that Severus is a vampire…tied together with her once-engagement to him…. Well, there's a lot of circumstantial evidence to fuel this particular fire."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Sirius said, pulling at his hair, standing abruptly and pacing. "This has gotten ridiculous. Look, here's what we're going to do. Lily, what's the Muggle disease you told me about, long recovery time, highly draining?"

"Erm, mono?"

"Yes, put out it as the disease. People know so little about Muggle illness, and it's close enough, she'll be believable. Make sure everyone who needs to know is aware of the story. And Fabian, I'm inclined to let you feel out the possibility of pinning it on this crim. Don't do anything yet, but at least question him. No one's going to argue with you doing due diligence on a case still technically yours to investigate. Gideon, any arguments?"

Gideon hesitated, but he shook his head after a long moment of consideration. Even he could recognize they needed to stop the leaking before the whole ship sank.

When the others started to file out, Lily stopped Sirius before he could slip away and she said, "Are you sure you really want to go there? This man has nothing to do with any of it."

"We're not doing anything, yet," Sirius said, groaning. "I don't know what I want to do, but I'm not going to leave my daughter and your son on a limb with no net. Cara tells me they're narrowing their housing options. When they make up their minds, let me know the details, alright? I want to do something big for the housewarming, but I need to know what scale to think in."

"Of course," Lily said earnestly, feeling her stomach squirm. She wasn't sure what they'd decide, but she had a feeling it was going to wind up much bigger than Harry initially planned. "Give Caro my love."

"Will do," Sirius said, kissing Lily's cheek before retreating from the kitchen. She watched his thumb go to his teeth as he walked away, and she felt a stab of anxiety on his behalf.

/-/

Colin slipped under the covers of the hotel room in Frankfurt. Rhea was already fast asleep, her face the perfect picture of peaceful slumber. He wished he could see her dreams, curious about what would flit through her unconscious mind. He wrapped his arms around her slender, muscular body. Even when she was sleeping, he could feel how powerful her body was, the shifting of the muscles, even as they relaxed. She rolled over to be closer to him, pressing her face into his shoulder. He exhaled.

As much as he'd never pictured his life being what it was now, he wouldn't trade it for the world. He hardly saw his family – except for brief stopovers in England – and he never settled in one place long enough to really feel he understood a culture or to develop a proper sleep schedule, but he always had Rhea beside him, and that was enough.

"I love you," he whispered, before kissing the top of her head. "I love you so much."

Mrs. Rhea Creevey, he thought with a smile. As it was looking increasingly unlikely his brother would ever marry, Colin felt especially proud Rhea wanted to take his name. He hadn't made her, knowing how much her surname gave her professionally, but she'd not even seemed to consider that she might not take it.

Colin closed his eyes, his mind already sifting through the things they would have to do as soon as the sun came through the blinds of the hotel room. The list always seemed endless, and he would make a quip at breakfast about how she worked him like a slave driver, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Everything he could do for the benefit of her career was something he would throw himself into avidly.

He felt sleep slide upon him slowly, and he tightened his hold on Rhea's body, sighing as she shifted closer. If he could have this, every day, forever, he would die a happy man.

/-/

Fabian stared at himself in the mirror, frowning at the age he saw in his own face. How did his twin still look so youthful when he could only see the years gone by as he gazed at his own reflection?

He could tell himself it was how he had four children, and Gideon had none, but it wasn't the answer. He couldn't blame work, because Gideon had the same job.

No, he had tangled himself up in the mess his wife became entangled in when they fought the war, the mess of Sirius Black's life. It never needed to be Fabian's problem, except it had become Dorcas's problem, and by then he could not imagine a life where he didn't spend the years with her. And if she hadn't drawn him in, his children befriending – and then dating – in Sirius's family meant Fabian couldn't pull himself out of the chaos if he wanted to.

He would go to Azkaban, do some questioning, see what he could determine about the man in custody. He would give Sirius all the information. He could to make the difficult decisions, and then Fabian would play his part, whatever it meant. Because the real question he had to ask himself was what if it were Rhea, and not Catherine, who was facing this disastrous mess.

And once this question was on the table, he knew he would do whatever had to be done, pay whatever had to be paid, and ruin whomever had to be ruined in order to make things right for her again. The least he could do was help Sirius do this for his daughter.

/-/

Euan walked back to Gryffindor Tower with Caroline when the meeting let out, and he said softly, "I have to ask, what's your secret?"

"Secret?" she asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Well, we all thought you and Aeson were going to tear each other to pieces, but you seem to have him under control. Oh, you put up a united front, but I'm not stupid enough to think you're not completely in charge. So how do you have him thinking he's got the power?"

Caroline said nothing for almost an entire corridor's walking, to the far side staircase. When they hopped the trick step, she said, "The trick for working with anyone, Euan, is to allow them to think the good ideas are their ideas, whether or not it's true. And any more, you won't get out of me. Are you going to be able to do your rounds tomorrow? I heard you talking to Professor Flitwick about putting in extra hours on your project. I think we could find someone to take your rounds, if you could use the extra time."

Euan had a feeling "someone" would be Caroline, and he was torn between being astonished at her sudden maturity and flattery she was willing to take his shift.

"Erm, I think I'll be okay," he said slowly. "But…maybe a swap? You're doing Sunday?"

"Saturday."

"D'you think we could do a swap?"

"Sure," she said brightly, and they walked in companionable silence until they reached the Tower, where Damon was sitting up in the common room, waiting for her.

It wasn't until Euan was brushing his teeth for bed that he realized she'd done it to him – she'd talked him around to presenting an idea he thought was his own, but a swap was her plan all along. She'd just demonstrated her method for dealing with Aeson, and he didn't know whether to feel insulted or laugh. Instead, he rinsed his mouth and rubbed his eyes, wondering if the peace would last all year, or if they would need to do some damage control when playing the adult wore thin and the Heads decided to take their old arguments to the fore.

He hurried into bed before Damon brought Caroline up to their dorm, pulling his curtains around him so he could pretend he didn't know she'd been sleeping with her boyfriend every night for five weeks straight.

 **A/N: So, the damage control is not complete, Harry and Catherine consider a possible home, and Caroline runs the school with remarkable smoothness and maturity. A little too remarkable?**

 **Review Prompt: With seven chapters to go, what would you need to see in any aspect of this story to feel comfortable saying it's all wrapped up?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Did Harry get back to his Quidditch career? (Marcytherock, danceegirl92)**

 **A: Ah, yes. So, you're picking up on that. Harry has not got back to his career, and has decided he'd rather have a dynamic more like what his parents had. In fact, he's gone almost out of his way to set up their relationship as much like his own childhood as possible, and Catherine is giving him as much of that as she can, for now. Obviously, the cottage in a small town isn't her thing, and she's not ready to have children, but they're really trying for the give-and-take, and she knows that's his ideal. They're trying to find a way to meet in the middle, compromise on the right things. Harry didn't even raise the idea of him going back to work, stepping out so long and deciding supporting his marriage was far more important to him. Catherine worried more about it than he did, in truth.**

 **Q: Is [the open marriage] going to happen, like, until the end? (Marcytherock)**

 **A: Okay, for those of you who HATE the whole Ryana thing, I have good news: it will have very little time of day in the story as a whole. I think I wrote, like, one scene between them. There's seven chapters left here, but while I won't say why, Ryana's only in a few (and I mean, five) chapters, and she's more a secondary or even tertiary thing because of everything else happening. So, while there's a large span of time she'll be a part of their lives, there are very few chapters you'll have to worry about her. And it's not going to be in your faces, much in the way it's carefully carried on not in Harry's face. Both women are going to endeavor to be very respectful about the whole thing.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	151. Warming

**A/N: Here's Bonus 27!**

 **-C**

Ron carefully wrapped the packet, wishing he hadn't agreed to this. But he had approval from the twins, and he kept telling himself plausible deniability was a thing. He sealed the packet, addressed it to Caroline, and told himself everything was fine before he left for the day. He was about to go to Harry and Catherine's house-warming party, and his understanding was it wasn't so much a house as a mansion. He was more than a little bit excited to see it.

Luna was meeting him there, so once he'd locked up and counted the till, Ron pulled on his cloak and Disapparated for the address he was given in Nottinghamshire.

The gates were huge, wrought-iron, and he nervously touched his hand to them, expecting they were ward-protected, like the ones at Selwyn Manor. He didn't have to wait long for Harry to Apparate to the other side of the gates, grinning.

"Hey," Harry said, cheerfully. "Glad you could make it. Cat's entertaining our parents admirably. Uncle Sirius is already calling it Potter Manor. I think it'll probably stick."

Ron could see why. When he stepped inside the gates, the protections hiding the house from view fell away, and he could see the massive stone-and-brick house on a slight hill. They walked the long drive, mostly for a chance to chat, and Ron asked how many square feet.

"Eleven thousand finished," Harry said sheepishly. "We've got about six hundred unfinished, but I doubt we'll touch that for a while. Just the two of us, and Ryana, and there's more than enough space for three people."

Ron nodded, trying to bury his jealousy one of his best friends could afford a massive estate like this, especially since Harry hadn't worked in over a year. Come to it, Catherine had only barely returned to work. Wasn't their fault they were born wealthy.

"I heard Kitty's giving someone a trial for an apprenticeship," Ron said. "Is it going well?"

"Yeah, I think so. Snape recommended him. Here, that's the front door."

They stepped onto a covered porch, and Ron was astounded when he stepped into the foyer, looking around at the marble floor and mirrored walls.

"Dining room," Harry said with a gesture on one side. "Living room. Music room through there. C'mon." They stepped into a rotunda, with a circular staircase up to the second floor. Harry opened a door just off it to a closet and took Ron's cloak. Ron assumed the other door was a water closet, and then Harry led him through the next room, an open space leading to a great room on one side, the kitchen on the other side, and doors to the left.

"That's the study," Harry said, gesturing to the doors. "But as you can see, everyone's through here."

They stepped into the great room, where a fireplace was roaring, and floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the pool and terrace. Ron bit his lip to hold in the green-eyed monster, and Catherine came forward to kiss his cheek.

"Harry," she said once the usual pleasantries had been exchanged, "Daddy wants to see the game room. Will you take him down? I want to be here to great guests."

"Game room?" Ron said, eyes wide.

"Yeah, c'mon," Harry said with a grin. "Neville's already down there."

Ron began scheming a dozen ways he could have a standing invitation to use their house whenever. Maybe they needed a gardener. Hell, he'd clean the pool if it meant using it when the weather was good.

/-/

Jason followed Catherine upstairs to a second story sitting room (he'd been told there were two), and through to a covered balcony overlooking the terrace. She'd wanted a bit of air, he supposed, and space from the crowd of friends and family gathered between the first floor and the basement.

"It's an impressive house," he said softly, "but I've been meaning to tell you all night, you look beautiful, Kitty."

She smiled, almost sadly, and said, "Thank you. You haven't even seen the widow's walk."

"I'm good." She laughed. "No, really, Kitty. You and Harry seem really happy, and I think this was the right call, as crazy huge as it is. D'you know why?" She shook her head. "Because no matter how many people you have over, you'll always be able to find some space."

Catherine smiled, turning to hug him. Jason wrapped his arms around her thin, fragile body.

"Is there really an elevator?" he asked, grinning as he pressed his face to her smooth, dark hair.

"Oh, yeah," she said brightly. "I'm not afraid of them anymore. We're fully electric. I mean, we have candles in every room, but we're all decked out. Have you seen the home theatre in the basement? I bet Daddy fainted when he saw it."

/-/

Caroline received the package late at night, which was precisely when it was promised to her, and she bit her lip as she slipped it into the alcove she was hiding in. She raised her lit wand and counted all the joke products. As promised, an excellent haul, and all free, agreed upon by the Weasley twins and delivered upon by Ron. She knew she wouldn't be able to use them for some time, but she wasn't about to leave Hogwarts without one extravagant sign-off from the Black children, on behalf of all her siblings.

Once everything was accounted for, she sealed the box again and checked the Map before creeping back to the Tower. She knew if she was caught out of bed, she could always say she was doing her rounds and lost track of time. No one was likely to ask about the box, but if anyone did ask, she'd already done a charm to make it teacher-friendly if opened, just spare parchment.

She considered the Map as she slipped it back in her pocket, wondering what she should do with it when she left school. It didn't feel right not to pass it on to someone, but surely it had to be a Marauder descendent. She would have to ask Jason.

He always knew what to do.

/-/

Astoria stood with Draco and Blaise on the covered porch, and she looked through the music room windows at the piano.

"It's very impressive," she said with a small smile. "But I must say, I prefer your home, Draco."

"You mean my father's home," Draco said with a snort. "No, this is good for them. Casual, small. Hardly any garden, but a sizable terrace. I don't know what they'll do with all the garage space."

"Put the sculpture her uncle did in one, I imagine," Blaise said with a smirk.

Astoria smiled sadly, shrugging. Her shared uncle with Catherine, Rabastan Lestrange, had done one of his beautiful, elaborate clay sculptures, but not of the house – of Catherine, life-sized. Catherine had been very gracious of her acceptance of it, and he seemed pleased, satisfied she liked it.

"I should probably head out," Draco said with a frown. "I've got an early morning tomorrow. Astoria?"

"I see no reason to stay if you're going," she said, shrugging. "Shall we find our host and hostess?"

"I don't know where Catherine is," Blaise said lazily, "but Harry went down to the basement with the other men. Apparently, there's a home theatre, whatever that means."

Draco and Astoria shrugged, and they went back into the house from the back, through the study, into toward the kitchen, down the stairs at the rotunda, and to the basement level, which Astoria had not yet seen. They were in a room she heard someone call a game room, which had an assortment of tables and games, including Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley locked in a heated game of Wizard's chess on an ornate table.

"This is incredible!" she heard Professor Black say excitedly in a room to the right, and Draco, gestured for Astoria to follow.

This, she realized, was a home theatre. A film – she thought it was the word, from hearing people discuss Muggle entertainment – was playing on the far wall. Seats were sunken down from the back of the room forward, leaned back slightly, in auditorium style. Professor Black, Professor Potter, and Professor Lupin were sitting in the front row, watching the film with childlike glee, and Professor Snape sneered on the scene with predictable attitude.

"Oh, Draco," Harry said brightly. "Yeah, this is the theatre. Oh, are you guys leaving? Okay, let me find Kitty before we get your coat."

"I'll get our cloaks," Draco said. "We'll see you in the rotunda."

"First floor? Okay. See you in a minute."

Astoria felt mildly dizzy.

/-/

Sirius went to the second floor to find Catherine after everyone had left and Harry was cleaning up. She was sitting on a settee in the master bedroom when he knocked, and she smiled at him when she heard the knock.

"Oh, we didn't finish the tour," she said teasingly, kicking off her shoes. "Not for everyone else, but I don't mind if you see."

She showed him the sizable master bath, the closet as big as a bedroom, and she took him upstairs to the widow's walk.

"What's in there?" he asked, taking off his jacket to wrap around her bare shoulders.

"Loft space," she said, shrugging. "We haven't furnished it at all. Well, Daddy, what do you think?"

"I think you've got yourself a palace, Kitty-Cat," he said, wrapping his arms around her, closing his eyes and feeling the cold night air. "This time, darling, let's keep it, alright?"

Catherine hummed, her forehead warm against his throat, her body small in his arms. He wanted to stand there and hold her forever, but he had to go back to the school, and she was likely exhausted from all the people. Large crowds were still a problem for her.

"Daddy? What should I do with the…gift?"

"From Uncle Rabastan?" he said, grinning at the attempt to appeal to Catherine's vanity. "Just put it in one of your many storage spaces, darling, and put in pride of place if you know he's coming."

/-/

Dorcas took off her cloak as soon as they came back from the housewarming, and she watched Fabian take off for their bedroom without a word. She knew he'd snuck a conversation with Sirius, and she felt a shiver down her spine as she wondered what they'd decided to do about the mess. She followed him, telling Cora to sleep well before she hurried into their bedroom and closed the door.

"Well?" she whispered.

"It's an odd thing," he said, frowning. "I…don't have the dilemma I expected. I have a different one. The man wants to plead guilty, without a trial."

"Isn't it what we wanted?" she asked, sitting beside him on the foot of the bed. "We could have all the loose ends wrapped up by Christmas."

"Except he took absolutely no convincing. He knew I was questioning about a murder, and he said he wanted to plead guilty."

"But he knows he didn't do it?" she asked, puzzled.

"He doesn't remember," he said with a snort. "He's got such gaps in his memory, he can't be sure he didn't. D'you know what he said? He said in prison, he can be certain he's not hurting his little girl."

Dorcas was stunned by the symmetry of the situation, and she was afraid to ask what Fabian was going to do.

/-/

Rabastan's study felt empty as he sat among his works in progress, staring at the stand that held the sculpture of Catherine for so long. The home was as beautiful as he'd expected, Catherine looking as exquisite playing hostess as he'd imagined. His curiosity almost carried him away from the group, to look for her when she went to find quiet in the un-shown corners of the house, but he knew there would be no way to explain away the behavior, and his wife would grow suspicious.

He closed his eyes and began running across the exterior of the house in his mind, already planning his next sculpture.

/-/

Ryana shivered as she took off her dress, looking around the well-furnished basement room of what would likely now be called Potter Manor. It was a guest room at best, a mother-in-law suite, perhaps, or at worst a room for the help. She tried not to think about the house-elf, Fizzy, that lived on the same floor as her. Fizzy did much of the cleaning, Harry most of the cooking, and Ryana did bits and bobs of both, splitting the gardening with Harry.

She looked in the mirror and pulled on a night dress, shivering against the cool, soft fabric. How her life had become this, she couldn't be sure. Part of her wondered if she wasn't being kept on for services to be rendered, a kind of glossy, family-friendly prostitution. But it wasn't quite like that.

Catherine knew, Ryana had learned. Catherine knew Ryana was in love with her, and Harry knew, and they all seemed to think this was the best way. She was, in a sense, part of their marriage, but separate from it. She and Harry would keep the house, stock the pantry, prepare for guests, plan the parties, and Catherine would do her apothecary business. And sometimes, when the stars aligned or Catherine and Harry worked it out between themselves, Ryana would get paradise.

/-/

Persephone Wood frowned into the darkness, aware Caroline Black had yet to return to their dormitory.

Persephone wasn't the nosy sort, not really. She rather thought this was Jessica's wheelhouse. But she'd been suffering a strong bout of insomnia of late, probably due to the incredible roadblock her Charms project had hit, and she'd begun to notice the pattern of nighttime behaviors for her roommates.

Jessica, for example, would come back from dinner with Demelza and Persephone. They would do work for a couple of hours, usually in the quiet of their dormitory, but occasionally in the common room, on calm nights. They spent at least twenty minutes every night – sometimes as much as forty minutes – discussing the progress they'd made, the issues they had, and what they planned to do the next couple of nights. It was a way to hold each other accountable as they reached this late, consuming stage of their education.

Ourania Prewett, on the other hand, spent the time after dinner in the common room, largely, with her brother, and Caroline Black when she could be bothered. Ourania came upstairs when her brother went to bed, which was usually when Caroline went to meetings or patrols. Ourania would spend about ten minutes getting ready for bed, and she'd go to sleep with very little said to any of her roommates. The other girls would drift off to sleep at various times for various reasons.

But Caroline Black hadn't come back in days.

Persephone hadn't really paid much attention to the nature of Caroline's relationship with Damon Prewett, but now, while sleep was so elusive, she couldn't help but stare at the ceiling and wonder what they were doing every night.

/-/

Harry was changing into pajamas when Catherine walked in, still dressed, smiling. He wondered where she'd got to, but she kissed him firmly and he decided she'd tell him if it mattered.

"Mum Flooed home, then?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands twitched down to her waist.

"From the study, yeah," he muttered, tracing his fingers along the contours of her torso, wondering if the night could go where his mind raced ahead.

"Daddy and I were on the widow's walk. He's Disapparated from there. Is that everyone?"

Harry hummed, pressing his lips to hers again. Catherine sighed against his mouth, accepting the kiss as her fingers traced up through his hair. She took the other hand and slid it down his chest, tugging playfully at the top he'd yet to button. Harry shrugged it off without a thought. He ached for her. She didn't always let him penetrate her, depending on how her day went, but she'd allowed it more often now she decided it was a pleasant sensation, despite her psychological discomfort. She knew what it meant to him, both physically and emotionally. Things were getting better between them all the time, and Harry's mind already was calculating the time it would take before she'd consider having children.

When he was sitting on the bed, Catherine straddling his lap as he pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside, she whispered, "There's something else I want."

His heart pounded as he tried to think what it could be. She couldn't possibly want children yet…could she? Things had moved faster than he could have anticipated but….

"Could we get a puppy?"

He relaxed slightly and laughed, nodding, pulling her in for a hungry kiss.

Nothing wrong with a dog, he thought as her fingers traced his skin. Like having a kid around, except housetraining was a lot easier than spending eighteen years trying to raise a child. A trial run, in a sense, someone to enjoy the grounds and splash in the pool, someone to love them, someone for them to love, who wasn't tied up in their complicated past.

These thoughts flashed across his mind with semi-coherence, and then she moved her lips from his lips to his jaw and began to nibble tenderly on his skin and Harry struggled to maintain any semblance of coherent thought. Their bodies became fire, and he gave in to the delicious burn, allowing himself to simply feel the exhilaration of touching her, holding her, tasting her, feeling her, and – mercifully – filling her. He desperately wanted to make this night, this happy, pleasant, hallmark night, last for the rest of their lives, but he settled for holding on to the mountaintop long as he could before they came down together, sweaty and sated and boneless.

Harry pressed his lips against her graceful throat, his hand on her collarbone, feeling the violence of her heartbeat as she caught her breath.

"I love you," he whispered, barely able to see her in the darkness of their bedroom.

"I love you, too. I'm thinking a wolfhound."

He laughed again, letting his teeth graze her neck.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine have a new house, Fabian's dilemma takes a new tenor, and there could be a puppy in the future!**

 **Review Prompt: What should Fabian do?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: If/when they do have kids, how would the Ryana thing play out? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: So, I sort of covered in this chapter that Ryana, Harry, and the house-elf split their responsibilities, roughly. They won't keep the house-elf forever, but that's more a ghost plot and unimportant. But while Ryana will be a house-keeper for the outside world, and while the children are young she'd be a house-keeper/nanny, they would know as they were into their teens about the arrangement.**

 **Q: What electives would you have signed up for? (Emmy)**

 **A: Ooo, tough question. When I was younger, I thought I knew, but as I'm older, I'm less certain. I think it would depend. If I were Muggle-born, I'd probably stick with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, but if I were raised outside the Muggle world I'd want to do Muggle Studies with those. Without the Muggle Studies, I'd petition to study Alchemy independently, partly because I'm precocious and partly because it's far more interesting than the other courses on offer and Dumbledore could probably have arranged something. I can't imagine he'd have discouraged academic interest. I mean, this is the man who gave a thirteen-year-old a Time-Turner so she could take every class.**

 **For my NEWTs, I would have done Arithmancy, Runes, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, and potentially Muggle Studies. Maybe Astronomy if I was feeling ambitious. I've got a black thumb, and Defense seems an awful lot of running about and physical exertion. I'm a card-carrying couch potato.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	152. For Worse

**A/N: Here's Bonus 28!**

 **-C**

For all the modern enhancements Potter Manor had – which Rhea found delightful and impressive, it didn't have a ballroom, and Harry and Catherine seemed quite pleased with this. Major holidays were still hosted at Selwyn Manor, and Christmas was no exception. Rhea and Colin flew in from Canada, and were pleased to see everyone there, in good spirits.

"Apparently, there's a big announcement," Cora said, kissing Rhea's cheek before letting Colin hug her. "Dunno if it's a proposal or what. Not even sure who, but it's not Kitty. Don't think it's a Black."

"It's the only time we all get together," Rhea said with a shrug. "Makes sense to take care of everybody at once, if it's big."

Selwyn Manor was filled. Potters, Blacks, Lestranges, Longbottoms, Prewetts. Dennis was over by the punch, chattering away with Natalie McDonald and Kevin Whitby. Luna's father even came out, having a cheerful conversation with Professor and Madam Black.

Rhea's line of sight, however, was drawn in by Brontes, who was having a quiet word with Rose Zeller by the French doors. Cora must have seen where Rhea's eye was drawn, because she whispered, "His mother and father met her for the first time. You knew they were courting, right?" Rhea shrugged slightly. She thought it might have been mentioned, but she'd quite forgotten about it, if she'd been told. "Well, his father was utterly charming with her, but Madam Lestrange was a bit stiff. Sort of how Madam Malfoy was welcoming to Astoria, but her husband…."

Rhea laughed. She'd almost forgotten entirely how Lucius desperately wanted his son to marry Catherine, and how he'd forced people into all kinds of ridiculous things, like Snape tying himself to Catherine and Draco delaying his courtship. Purebloods might not be killing those less elite than themselves, but she couldn't deny they still behaved ridiculously, at times.

"They seem very happy," Rhea said, smiling as she slipped her hand in Colin's, feeling him squeeze around her fingers lightly. "A very attractive couple."

"Unfairly attractive," Cora said with a small smirk. "I mean, probably the prettiest couple ever. No offense to anyone, but Harry's not exactly a dream man. Natalie and Jason were gorgeous, but they split, and Kevin's a definite physical step down, and I think when Jason and Laura finally start admitting their snogging… Well, she's pretty, but she's comparatively plain. And Caro's dazzlingly beautiful, but Damon's…a tad above average? Brontes and Rose are the only couple in our generation with an equal combination of disgustingly good looks."

"Like the Blacks," Colin said, grinning as he nodded over to Professor and Madam Black, who were talking to each other now. Rhea watched as Professor Black lifted his wife's hand to his lips, tenderly, and she flushed attractively, caressing his face with her free hand, trying to coax him out of the reverent posture.

Attractive, yes, but terribly sweet, Rhea thought. If she was so deliriously in love at their age, with children, she would consider her life well-lived.

"Oh, come," Cora said brightly as Catherine wrapped up a conversation with Professor Snape and glided over to Harry and Jimmy. "Bat-free."

Rhea and Colin laughed, following Cora over to the trio, and they were greeted warmly, Catherine kissing Rhea's cheek and smiling a smooth smile that didn't meet her eyes. She was uncomfortable in the crowd, Rhea knew, but she was probably planning to stay around until the announcement and then slip off for some air and privacy.

"You look lovely," Colin said earnestly, kissing her hand as she thanked him, smiling.

"You've saved me," she said to Cora with a wink. "The boys were deep in conversation about the Montrose Magpies. Can't think why. No one we know even likes the Magpies."

"We were trying to think of possible Seeker openings, Cat," Harry said with a good-natured, playful pinch on her arm. She slapped at him with the same playfulness. "For your sister. Magpies are one of a few teams she could consider, although not one of the better ones."

"What about the Wasps?" Rhea said. "I thought their Seeker was nearing retirement."

Jimmy and Harry laughed darkly and Jimmy said, "Yeah, you'd think so, right? He's ancient. But he did retire, and then decided to come out of retirement for Merlin knows what reason, and now it's looking like he's probably got a few more years in him. Not sure they'd kick a legend, even for a promising young talent."

Catherine cleared her throat, touching her husband's arm and giving him a significant look, and he smiled sheepishly.

"Right, let's cut the Quidditch for now," he said. He kissed the corner of her mouth gently. "Rhea, how was Canada?"

She and Colin talked about the tournament, their trip to see Ilvermorny, how massive Niagara Falls actually were, and how they were going to the west side when they went back. Catherine asked if they could try to find her some maple tea while they were there, as she'd heard it was divine. Rhea and Colin agreed fervently.

Things weren't back to perfection between Harry and Catherine, certainly. But Rhea could see things were mending rapidly, and that was something.

"Oh, how's Paddy?" Jimmy asked, grinning.

Rhea frowned in confusion when Catherine and Harry lit up, but as they explained Paddy's latest accomplishments, she realized they must have got a dog. It made sense, as Catherine seemed uncertain about having children, and they had such a big house all to themselves. She wondered who was watching this dog, while they were at the party.

/-/

Jason grabbed another glass of champagne for himself, and motioned toward a second for Laura, but she shook her head. He walked back across to her, feeling a kind of pleasant floating sensation, as he settled into a posture beside her. They'd been talking work most of the evening, but he found he could talk work continuously with Laura and not feel tired or annoyed.

"Your sister looks quite well," Laura said, nodding toward Catherine. Jason turned and smiled.

Quite well didn't cover it. She looked radiant, like she used to, before all the chaos of Karkaroff or drugs. Like a queen holding court, pleased to be with Harry, pleasant and glowing with self-esteem and pride.

"Yes," he said fondly. "She's much improved. I think their dog has been really good for her, actually. You haven't met Paddy yet, have you?"

"Paddy?" she said, laughing. "No, I haven't."

"Irish wolfhound puppy," Jason said. "Even the puppies are huge. He's very well-mannered, and he adores her. She named him for our father."

Laura tried to puzzle it out, how naming a dog Paddy was named for their father, and he decided he'd let her work through it for a bit before he explained. He'd love to explain to her how one weekend, their father changed into his Animagus form and played with the puppy for most of the day in dog form. Caroline lamented she couldn't use her form, as foxes and hounds were not natural friends.

Before he got a chance, though, Caroline slipped her arm in his and asked Laura if she could borrow him. Laura smiled and nodded, and Jason walked with his little sister, allowing her to lead him out into the foyer where she told him, very softly, that she had a very important question, and she needed his advice.

/-/

Rose was not deterred by the lack of warmth from Brontes's mother. His father was wholly charming, and she was enjoying the opportunity to spend so much time in his company. She realized, as she watched the guests mill about in his uncle's home, this was something like what her life with him would be. He'd been raised for this environment of hosting and socializing, of idle wealth and privilege. She wasn't terribly good at doing nothing, and she asked him if it would be a problem for her to have a career.

"Not at all," he said earnestly, kissing her hand as he'd done dozens of times that evening. "Anything you wish to do, I will support in every way possible."

She smiled, but she started slightly as Madam Malfoy's husband seemed to swoop in like a bird of prey.

"Brontes," he said in the way she imagined a snake would speak to a mouse. "I do not believe I've had the pleasure of being introduced to your intended."

"Of course," Brontes said, inclining his head slightly. "This is Miss Zeller. She is in Caro's year, and a friend of hers. A Hufflepuff and a Prefect."

"Delighted and enchanted, Miss Zeller," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. She felt a strange sensation of terror in her chest, but she smiled and thanked him, giving Brontes a look she hoped told him she wanted this man to leave.

/-/

Damon saw Caroline returning from the corridor with her brother just as Ron whispered something to Professor Black, who nodded and grinned. He touched his wand to his throat and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "It is time for a very important announcement. Please, everyone, quiet."

Complete silence fell on the room, and everyone turned to look at them, waiting patiently for the news they'd been promised. Damon took Caroline's hand and decided he'd ask her what she was doing with Jason later.

/-/

Cara slipped her hand into Sirius's as Ron cleared his throat, grinning, and said, "We'd just like to announce last week, Luna and I learned we're going to have a baby."

The cooing and excitement throughout the room was instant, and James came forward, proposing a toast. Cara turned to see her eldest daughter frown slightly and slip out of the room, Harry following close behind. Cara thought about going after them, but she supposed Catherine simply needed a bit of space. She'd been edgy all evening.

"Happy Christmas, darling," Sirius said, kissing the corner of Cara's lips. "Any guesses how long until we're adding out our family again?"

"I'm not having another child," she said playfully, tapping his chin. He laughed, a bark-like laugh she adored.

"I meant grandchildren, Cat," he teased. "I think Jason's close to a girlfriend, Kitty and Harry's puppy only half counts, and Caro's almost graduated."

"Why don't we just wait patiently, Sirius?"

He pouted childishly, and Cara kissed him. Patience had never been his strong suit.

/-/

As agreed, toward the end of the party, Remus went back to the recently-named Potter Manor with Catherine and Harry. Ryana would stay with Ron and Luna, and come back in the morning. He was surprised to see Catherine was distressed about something, but he didn't ask as she hurried upstairs and Harry gave him an apologetic smile before going after her. Remus sat in the great room, smiling as their wolfhound puppy came up to him, sniffing his hand before rearing onto hind legs and pawing eagerly at Remus's lap. With a laugh, Remus helped Paddy onto his lap, letting the grateful tongue lap at his face.

"Just like your grandpa," Remus teased, knowing Sirius saw the puppy as a kind of first grandchild. Paddy whimpered and nuzzled Remus's neck, sniffing at him. Remus obliged and scratched the ears with practiced hands.

It took about ten minutes before Harry came back down, smiling at the sight of Remus and Paddy making friends. He leaned against an archway and said, "Sorry about Cat. She's…sensitive. Her father's told her he doesn't expect grandkids right away, and he figures the first will be from Caro, but…she's…. Well…. We're not sure we can have kids at all."

This surprised Remus, who sat up straighter, and Paddy whimpered at the attention lavished on him slowing to a halt.

"I thought your mother said she checked out alright medically."

"She does, except…there's no way to tell if her eggs are fertile," Harry said, pained. "And tests on whether I'm still fertile haven't given us a lot of information, either. Severus is trying to figure it out, but…so far, no answers." He hesitated. "Please, don't tell Uncle Sirius. We don't want him worrying, one way or another, until we know for sure what we're dealing with."

Remus agreed, but he didn't like keeping something so heavy from Sirius. But he knew Harry only said it because it needed to tell someone.

/-/

Rabastan had a quiet conversation with Sirius, and he learned that the mess was soon to be over, that he and Fabian decided to allow the imprisoned criminal to take the murder charge onto his sentencing, for Harry's sake. And Catherine's sake.

He felt conflicted, not because he felt they shouldn't take the action, but because he wondered how the knowledge – should Catherine ever learn – might affect her, after everything. They'd come so far, he didn't want anything to destabilize that. And from the way she reacted when she heard Luna Weasley was with child, he had a feeling Catherine's peace of mind was far more fragile than they all wished to believe.

"I don't know how you could be so…warm to that girl," Delia said sharply as she entered their bedroom, removing her earrings as she walked. "Utterly disgraceful."

"What girl?" Rabastan asked as he undid his robes. "I saw only women tonight, Delia. Young and not as young."

"That Zeller girl," Delia snarled. "And whatever you want to say, Rabastan, she's a child. Just like your _niece_ is a child."

"Miss Zeller is of age," he said coolly, not looking up at his wife, "as are both of Cara's daughters. I cannot imagine which of them you mean, but either way, neither are children any longer."

"It's indecent," she said.

"For your sake," he said in his coldest, firmest voice, "you had better be referring to our son's courtship. And as to his courtship, there is nothing indecent about it. He has chosen a highly eligible young lady, very intelligent, well-mannered, and exceedingly beautiful. If you are referring to her blood-status, I should remind you, we no longer live in a world where such things matter, even within our set. Brontes loves Miss Zeller, and she seems quite taken with him, and that is quite enough for me."

Delia said nothing, which he thought was for the best, and he resolved to keep her on a very short leash while Aeson was home on holiday. No sense causing any uncalled-for speculation as to anything regarding Catherine.

/-/

Harry settled into the bed he shared with Catherine, watching her bare shoulder in the moonlight. He licked his lips slightly and some of the anguish knotting in his chest as he let their predicament out to Uncle Remus melted away. He knew as much as he wanted to be a father, he would be alright, as long as he had Catherine. He'd come too close to losing her completely to be so picky.

He traced his fingers up her arm and around her shoulder, wondering if she was still awake, and he was mildly pleased when she rolled onto her back to look at him.

"I love you," he whispered, wishing he could find some better way to say how he felt. Those same three words over and over, they never seemed like enough.

"I love you, too," she said, but her voice was strained, and he knew she was still upset.

"Paddy was all over Remus," he said, grinning, trying to move her train of thought to more positive things. "You'd have laughed."

"Maybe," she sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Paddy likes everyone, except Uncle Rabastan. Could be his cologne, or something. Dogs are very sensitive to smells."

Harry hummed, leaning in to kiss her collarbone, lingering to feel the softness of her skin on his lips.

"When we were kids, I lied," he said, still looking down at her neck as she began to pet his hair. "I told you, cruelly, you were too thin, too pale. It was a lie. I was just…astonished at how perfect you were. And I didn't think it sounded cool to say, if you wondered why I was staring at your legs."

"I was cruel, too," she said, and he relaxed to hear the smile in her voice. "I worked so hard to make certain you were tortured by my legs at every opportunity, once I knew you were fascinated by them. I shouldn't have done."

"It was torture, but I'm glad you did," he said, grinning, before pressing another kiss to her skin. "It helped my need overcome my pride."

"Need?" she teased.

"I've always needed you, Cat. I just haven't always realized."

He turned and rested his head on her chest, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her down, to keep her with him, as though if he didn't hold her, she'd vanish in the night. Catherine continued to caress his hair in a slow, languid rhythm. He knew she was thinking about Luna, about children, about her father and the expectation of grandchildren. Harry promised himself to call on Snape first thing in the morning and press him to make some conclusions, one way or the other. It was agony, living life on this knife's edge.

If they couldn't have children, he could live with it. They'd probably be rubbish parents, anyway, barely stopped being selfish children and hardly ready to raise small, innocent people in a very cruel world. He could get used to the idea of sterility, and even if it was Catherine who was sterile, he would happily let the world believe it was him, if that made it easier for her.

It was just the waiting, the not knowing, the lack of control of the situation. Harry had gone too long without control of his life, of their life. He couldn't stand the feeling that once he had everything in order, it was suddenly all out of his hands again.

Catherine sighed and shifted slightly beneath him, and he closed his eyes, saying a little prayer to no deity in particular that somehow, some way, they would know what they were dealing with.

 **A/N: So, Delia is perturbed, Ron and Luna are expecting, and Harry and Catherine don't know what to expect.**

 **Review Prompt: How fucking cute would it be to watch Sirius play with their puppy?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How soon will you post Part 3 considering it's still a work-in-progress? (Guest)**

 **A: I will start posting right away. I'm actually quite close to finishing it, and could churn out the unfinished chapters relatively quickly. I doubt we'll be called on to give updates at this pace, or we'd get it all in a couple of days, but soon enough I'd be ready to do it. I would have written another chapter today, but I've been a bit busy supplying earned bonuses.**

 **Q: Will Catherine discovering she likes women lead to her and Harry breaking up? (Th3Gingerwizard)**

 **A: NO. Absolutely not. Harry and Catherine will go through a great deal more before the end of Part 3, but even that won't break them up. Whatever you might think of them, they love and need each other to make just about anything work. It might not be romantic, but it has its bonuses.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	153. Biological Drives

**A/N: Here's Bonus 29! Also – cheers! We've passed 1k reviews for this story!**

 **-C**

Jason passed Laura the file she'd asked for, and he let his hand linger on hers as she took it. Laura gave him a mildly surprised look, but he knew better. He'd grown up around people who carefully displayed one face to hide another, and he could see the interest, excitement, hope in her eyes as he watched her face.

"Come to dinner with me tonight," he said, hoping he sounded twice as confident as he felt. How did Brontes manage to speak with such authority when he wooed Rose? How was this so much more difficult than asking out Natalie?

Perhaps because then, he'd been a child, and now he was a man, thinking not of snogging in quiet corridors at night, but of building trust, building up to a proposal, eventual marriage, children.

"It's Valentine's Day," she said, the excitement obvious in her voice.

"Of course."

Laura's tongue darted out to wet her lips as she set aside the file in her hands, leaning forward slightly at her desk. Work had been going well, and they often would meet for drinks on the pretext of talking shop, ending up just talking about anything and everything else. It was time now, Jason decided. He needed to be bold or just let the whole thing drop, and he wasn't prepared to let her go.

"To be clear, you want to take me to dinner on Valentine's Day?"

"To be clear," he said, his lips twitching, "this is a date. I am asking you to have dinner with me, with the expectation that I'll kiss you if the night goes well, and if you let me, I'll probably take you to lunch tomorrow. Within a year or two, depending on how things grow, I'll probably ask you to marry me, and I fully intend to make you my wife someday."

Her cheeks flushed a highly attractive shade of pink and she said, "Well, I suppose dinner sounds good, then. Was there anything else you needed?"

He grinned, kissed her hand, and went back to his own office, feeling like a conqueror.

/-/

Jimmy didn't have the morning off, but he'd delivered the roses to Cora the night before. He went to his training and tried to keep his wits about him, knowing that no one at Auror training would have sympathy for a man in love who got himself put in hospital because he was too twitterpated to pay attention.

"You look a bit peaky," Hawkins, one of the Aurors who ran training, said with a frown. "You ill, Peakes?"

"No, sir," Jimmy said brightly. "Just in love. But I'll be well focused today, sir. Promise."

Hawkins didn't seem convinced, but Jimmy carefully planned every minute of his free time so he could focus on work while at work, and maximize his time with Cora when he wasn't at work. They'd have lunch together, they would have dinner together, and he had talked her into spending the night at his flat, knowing Dennis wouldn't care.

He shouldn't have thought about spending the night with her, though, because he found it difficult to quickly refocus his thoughts once he thought of the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Roll call was taken, and he rubbed his temples before he was taken off with Dawlish for individual training.

"Hawkins says you're in love," Dawlish said with a smirk, as though he had something to be superior about. "This job doesn't lend itself well to relationships, Peakes."

"Oh?" Jimmy said, knowing Dawlish was just a bitter old man. "So, the Longbottoms and the Prewetts just got lucky then, eh?"

He shouldn't have annoyed his tutor right before training, because now he was going to have to train twice as hard, but he was too happy to care too much.

/-/

Ourania was annoyed it was Valentine's Day, everything was pink, and she hadn't managed to find a new boyfriend in time to be spoiled the way Caroline was being spoiled. Instead, she opted to go to the library and bury herself in the mountain of work she was supposed to be able to manage, as a seventh year student. A few more months, she told herself, and she'd be happily out in the world without a scrap of homework to do ever again.

If she could only find the bloody book she needed.

"Looking for this, Prewett?"

The amused voice of Aeson Lestrange was both a black mark on her already dark day and a source of excitement. He never left her without a solid verbal joust, and she felt like being caustic at someone, for whatever the reason. She turned to see him smirking at her, holding the very book she'd been struggling to locate for nearly twenty minutes.

"Yes, thank you," she said tightly. "I'd like to use it now."

"Look at you," he teased, stepping closer, but still far enough that she couldn't snatch the book out of his hands. "All alone on Valentine's Day. I suppose it's the way it had to be."

"Why's that, then?" she snapped, trying to move close enough to get the book from him, clicking her tongue with frustration as he moved it out of her reach, shifting his arm behind him instead of to his side. His arms were far too long, and he smirked at how close they were standing.

"Because you've finally given up," he said, his eyes narrowing as she tried to think how to get around him with the table on the side he was holding the book. He'd planned this far too well. "You've realized none of those sorry sods are man enough, exciting enough to handle you."

"And what would you care about it?" she countered, focusing more on her predicament than the conversation, and she was stunned when he took a few steps forward, backing her into the bookshelf.

He didn't say a word, didn't give her any warning, and as she tried to reach around him for the book, he took advantage of her leaning in to press a firm, confident, warm kiss to her lips. Ourania was surprised with how pleasant it was. He didn't touch her apart from her lips, but as he coaxed her lips open and touched her tongue with his, her hand seemed to be at his neck without her remembering raising it. Her heartbeat felt wonky, her eyes were closed, and she was wondering how to pull him closer without being too bloody obvious this was the most delicious thing she'd felt in a very long time.

Aeson pulled away without a word, without more than a smirk at her moan of disappointment. He set the book on the table and walked away, leaving Ourania as a trembling, breathless mess in the middle of the library, astonished, hungry, and a million times happier than when she'd walked in half an hour gone.

/-/

After months of being pestered by Harry, Severus called a meeting with Catherine and Harry at their home, to avoid being overheard. He arrived about an hour before lunch, and he thanked Harry when he was given a cup of tea. Catherine was tugging at her plaited hair, not looking at him.

"I know this has been a stressful wait," Severus said softly, "but I had to be certain. I do have a definite result."

"We can't have children?" Catherine said softly, her throat tight around the words.

"You can," he said, slowly, "but it will be difficult." Her head jerked up and he said, "The drug triggered a dormant gene. Perhaps you don't know, one of your father's cousins was barren, and another had great difficulty in producing a child. You will have similar difficulty, but it is possible. And there is a treatment regimen I could give you, when you are ready to try for children, to both increase the chances of successful conception and increase the chances of successful labor."

Harry deflated with relief and Catherine closed her eyes, unreadable. Was she pleased, or disappointed? Severus couldn't be certain.

"Not yet," she said. "But…maybe someday. Not yet. It's enough to know it's possible."

Severus quite understood. He would have cautioned them to wait, anyway. There was no point complicating their lives further when things were slowly beginning to fall into place.

"Thank you," Harry said, as he walked him out. "I couldn't have given her a better Valentine's Day present."

"She does want children, then?" Severus asked, curious.

Harry hesitated and said, "I'm…not completely sure. I think she just wants the option, should she make up her mind."

Severus took his leave, and hoped their day only became better.

/-/

Narcissa opened the newspaper and saw the face of a man she'd never met, and a short headline stating that he'd pled guilty to the murder of drug dealer Padma Patil, more than a year prior. He had waved his right to trial, and would spend the next twenty-five years of his life in Azkaban. Aurors were currently digging into his past, looking for more information they might charge him with. Auror Fabian Prewett was leading the charge, and declined to comment.

She sighed with relief.

/-/

Ron touched Luna's abdomen again as she enjoyed her sandwich. She kicked up at him playfully, but he ignored her, grinning.

"There's a baby in there," he said excitedly. "Our baby is in there."

"You've said six times today."

"I'm excited," he said with feigned defensiveness. "Isn't a man allowed to be excited that he's going to be a father?" He paused, the words hitting him for the first time since they'd learned about the pregnancy. "Bloody hell, I'm going to be a father."

"That's usually how it works, yeah," she said between bites of her sandwich.

Ron sat up, leaning back on the sofa, staring at the far wall. He'd taken his lunch break to spend time with Luna in their flat, knowing he'd have to go back to the shop soon, even with a longer-than-usual break.

"Luna, what if it's a girl? I'd be a rubbish father to a girl."

"Don't be absurd, Ron," she sighed. "It's not any different."

/-/

Jimmy hurried off his break and met Cora at the café they'd agreed on, eager to lavish attention on her. He was stunned, then, to see she was chatting with her cousin, who was there with Blaise Zabini. He hoped, nay, prayed this hadn't become a double date without him realizing.

"Oh, Jimmy," Cora said brightly. "Funny story, Ginny and Blaise lunched here as well! They're leaving, but I'm glad you caught them."

Relieved, Jimmy greeted the couple happily. He shook hands and sat down with Cora.

"Blaise is taking me dancing tonight," Ginny said with a grin. "And then we're having dinner with Ron and Luna. She can't go out for drinks, so we're doing a quiet night in."

Come to think of it, Jimmy didn't think he'd seen Ginny drink anything, either, since…since…since about when she caught whatever Catherine Potter had sending her to France for recuperation.

"Well, have a lovely time," Cora said, kissing her cousin's cheek.

Jimmy and Cora watched the couple leave, and he said nervously, "Are you upset I'm not taking you dancing?"

"Jimmy, if you said you were going to take me dancing, I'd be mortified," she said with a laugh. "I hate things like that. Anyway, I'm excited just to spend some time at your place. It always feels like we're catching each other on the fly, here and there. How was training?"

"Oh, good," he said, smiling as he took her hand and a waitress made her way toward them. "I'll be a tad bruised, but that's that. How was your morning at the _Prophet_?"

Cora went into a story about one Rita Skeeter, and a bit scene she made because she wasn't getting the placement and payment she thought she deserved for blowing the lid on Ludo Bagman's gambling problem. Apparently, she hadn't been the one to blow the lid on it at all, and she threw in all kinds of minutia about his being used by Death Eaters during the war because he was young and naïve.

"As if that didn't happen to everybody," Cora said with a snort. "He didn't even do anything bad, just thought he was doing a favor for a family friend. The only thing Ludo Bagman is guilty of is the only thing he's ever been guilty of. Stupidity and narrow-mindedness."

Jimmy agreed, and wished he could spend all day talking about such levities.

/-/

Natalie met Kevin in a pub in the middle of Birmingham. They opted for a Muggle place, hoping for a bit of privacy. It wasn't that too many wizards went out of their way to go to wizarding Birmingham without a specific need or purpose, but more they knew people who lived and worked in the area, including Kevin's employer, Catherine Potter.

"She's been a bit melancholy," Kevin said with a shrug, "but there doesn't seem to be a particular reason for it. She seems healthy, and I went to their house yesterday to pick up some ingredients she'd been storing in her personal lab. The size of it is incredible."

Natalie had heard, and she nodded, wondering what it would be like to work for Jason's elder sister. She changed the topic of conversation to an article she read about the uses of jellyfish in alchemy, and Kevin seemed interested enough.

He kept fiddling with something in his pocket, though, which was only noticeable because he wasn't a fidgeter by nature. She asked him if something was wrong, and he said no, everything was wonderful. So, Natalie finally got fed up and asked what on earth was in his pocket if it was distracting him so much.

Very sheepishly, he pulled out a box, small and soft-looking. He opened it carefully for her to see in, and she caught her breath at the delicate, brilliant diamond ring.

"I realize it might seem a bit soon," he said quickly, "but I feel like we've been together all our lives, and I don't want to have that change. I can't imagine not having you in my life."

She stared at the ring for a moment, processing wat it meant, what he was asking, and very slowly she smiled and nodded, and told him she would marry him. He was so pleased, he slipped the ring on her finger, and she felt it adjust to her finger as it went – a hallmark of magical rings, none of this resizing nonsense.

"It's beautiful," she said, surprised. "Tell me you didn't pick this out yourself."

"I was going to wait for Laura to help," he said sheepishly, "but Jason was visiting his sister, and when I asked him what Laura's schedule looked like, he and Catherine figured out what I was doing, and they took me to get something then and there. They've both got very good taste, and they work well together."

Natalie just laughed. Leave it to Jason to help pick out her engagement ring to someone else. Always a gentleman.

/-/

Draco was called down to the registry department, which was highly unusual. He typically dealt with legal matters of significance, and registry could work things out amongst themselves. It was very basic work, permits and licenses, contracts and corollaries.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," the hook-nosed wizard at the main desk said, smirking lightly. "We can begin."

He blinked, puzzled, and he glanced over to see Ron and Luna Weasley on the other side of the room, with Blaise and Ginny standing before the desk.

His best friend was getting a paperwork marriage, he realized, and they'd needed him to witness it. Draco almost laughed, but he bit his lip to keep quiet while the registration wizard went over particulars with the couple. He wondered, working hard not to grin, how in the name of Merlin Ginny would explain this to her mother. He had a feeling this had something to do with Ginny's lack of comfort around crowds since her…illness, and her mother's sure insistence of a large wedding. But he couldn't help thinking it would be just as bad to explain to her mother she and Blaise were already married.

Still, he supported the choice, and he half-wished it were an option open to him. He supposed he'd better get on the wedding preparations, as everyone else was marrying at an alarming rate. Before he knew it, all his cousins would be married, and he would have put Astoria off terribly long. Even with saintly patience, no woman could take that well.

"Congratulations," Draco said with a grin. "Come to my office. We'll celebrate. I have butterbeer for the ladies."

The others laughed and agreed, and he began mentally re-arranging his workload.

/-/

Colin closed his eyes, pleased Rhea had taken the time to learn driving. They were on the road in Finland, going to a dueling competition in Mikkeli, and then another in Turku before they went to Germany again. Not major tournaments, but they would build her points to help her qualify well for the big ones. She was working her way up the ranks, and it took baby steps sometimes.

"I love you," Colin whispered. "Happy Valentine's Day, love."

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too," she said, brightly. "And you know I love you."

He did, and somehow he knew this wasn't the way their friends and families were spending the holiday, but it worked for them. The nomadic lifestyle they'd taken up was working into his veins, and Rhea and Colin seemed happiest, most at peace, when they were together, alone, on a road like this, in the middle of a distant country in a rented car, between two dueling tournaments. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he prayed it didn't end soon. They were too happy to let go now.

 **A/N: So, Harry and Catherine get some news, more proposals and weddings, and Ourania gets a rather pleasant shock.**

 **Review Prompt: What's one character you absolutely feel needs to have a POV in the upcoming story?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Were [Rabastan's] feelings for Cara ever purely fraternal? Did they become purely fraternal after he developed feelings for Kitty? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Well…to come up short of spoilers, I would say there was a time when they were very small children when Rabastan's feelings were purely fraternal, but they aren't fully fraternal yet. The older Cara becomes, the more his feelings/obsessions will focus in on Catherine in place of her mother. Right now, they're spread between the two.**

 **Q: Have Draco and Astoria married yet? (Marcytherock)**

 **A: Well, I hadn't covered that as well as I probably should have. Obviously, I was juggling may storylines and some better than others. They are NOT married yet. They've been courting for years now.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	154. Life and Death

**A/N: Here's Bonus 30, the last currently earned, and certainly the last for today. Y'all may earn us into Part 3 while I'm sleeping, but I'm hoping not too far. I do have things I want to accomplish tomorrow.**

 **-C**

Catherine had an evening set aside in her calendar, and Harry was using that day for drinks with friends – something he'd been putting off for some months because Catherine's emotional condition could be so variable of late. This meant Ryana could take advantage of the time away to make herself…available to Catherine.

The pool was the obvious spot to look. Catherine would use it, even in the rain, any time she had time to herself, and it was just outside Ryana's front door. Well, she had to go out through the basement sitting room, the game room, and to the back terrace, but it was close enough. She walked onto the terrace wearing only a thin cover-up, no bathing suit beneath. She saw Catherine look up at her with mild interest, then smile.

"Well, hello, pet," Catherine sighed, in the hot tub rather than the pool, as the night was cool and clear. Catherine beckoned Ryana over to join her, which Ryana did, peeling off the cover-up and stepping slowly into the warm water. She sat on Catherine's lap, as instructed.

"Harry's gone all night?" Ryana asked breathlessly, hopefully.

"Yes," Catherine said lazily. "He said he wanted to give me as much space as possible. He'll be staying with Ron and Luna. Ron said he could use a bit of help keeping up with her mood swings. Hard to imagine Luna with mood swings, isn't it?"

Ryana certainly agreed. Luna was one of the most even, calm, collected people Ryana had ever met.

"You're sure Harry doesn't mind?" Ryana asked as Catherine kissed her neck.

"He doesn't," Catherine said smiling. "Harry's always understood what I needed, even when I didn't. This is as much a necessary part of our marriage as a new house and a dog were. Long as we're discrete. I don't think the wizarding world is quite ready for such…openness within the marriage. Half of it's in enough of a tizzy over Brontes's decision to court a Muggle-born witch."

Ryana relaxed, kissing Catherine, knowing the couple had become more relaxed since Professor Snape payed his visit on Valentine's Day. Ryana didn't think she was supposed to know what the meeting was about, but she wasn't stupid. Somehow, he'd been testing their fertility, and with their change in mood, the news must have been that they would, someday, be able to have children. She wasn't sure where that would leave her, but she couldn't imagine ever leaving Catherine. Long as she was able, she would help with the cleaning, the cooking, the gardening, carrying for Paddy or any children that came along. She and Harry were getting used to each other, working together, smoothing over the awkwardness of sharing the same space.

She sighed, feeling Catherine's hands caressing her under the warm water, lips on Ryana's neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. They weren't thinking about who might see any marks on Ryana's neck, although they could probably get rid of anything left there.

After some kissing and light petting in the hot tub, Catherine suggested they move inside. They went into the house on the basement level, towel dried and towel wrapped, so as not to drip on the floor of the game room. They went past her bedroom to the shower, and Catherine peeled off her bathing suit as Ryana turned on the water, testing its warmth. She closed her eyes as Catherine came up behind her, massaging her breasts and kissing her neck. Ryana led Catherine into the stream of warm water from the shower and turned to kiss her.

Their tongues battled under the water, and their hands explored each other's skin. Ryana moaned into Catherine's mouth as Catherine's fingers slipped inside her, teasing her. Ryana sighed, kissing down Catherine's neck to pay particular attention to her breasts as she enjoyed the sensations of Catherine's fingers, imagining where the night could go.

They played in the shower for longer than strictly necessary, but it was pleasant to know Catherine was enjoying herself. They dried off completely, and Ryana led Catherine into her bedroom, feeling her pulse race as she crossed to the bed, dropping her towel and waiting for Catherine.

As soon as Catherine laid back on the bed, Ryana began to press kisses everywhere her lips could reach, and she settled between Catherine's thighs, lapping. At first, she was gentle with her tongue, but she followed the encouragements of Catherine's voice, the cues of Catherine's fingers in Ryana's hair, twisting when Ryana did the right thing. For a moment, Ryana flashed back to the Bliss-induced euphoria of simply tasting Catherine, knowing she was bringing her pleasure, knowing she was doing what Catherine wanted, needed. She'd only ever half-needed the Bliss as encouragement to do everything she could imagine to delight Catherine.

When Catherine came, not once but twice, Ryana was instructed to kneel on her hands and knees on the bed, and she did so, quivering with anticipation as Catherine went to a drawer. Catherine hummed absently to herself, attempting to find the right tool for what she wanted to do, and Ryana held her breath, gripping the sheets with her anxious fingers.

"Here we go," Catherine said playfully. She came around to the front of Ryana wearing a strap-on, and Ryana knew without being told she was meant to wet it with her mouth. She did so, feeling Catherine's fingers in her hair, knowing she was doing the right thing. She held her breath again as Catherine went around to the back of her, positioning, and Ryana felt a sense of great gratitude to the ways of the universe that she could be allowed this kind of life.

That thought was punctuated when Catherine entered her with the strap-on, and Ryana moaned, spreading her legs even wider, smiling as Catherine swatted at her arse for moving. Ryana closed her eyes and gave in to the drug-free bliss.

/-/

Ginny raised her eyebrows as Blaise came back from _The Daily Prophet_ office, fuming.

"Cuffe is an idiot," he snapped.

"Yes, we knew," she said, trying not to laugh. "What…exactly did he do this time?"

She was afraid to ask, but she knew she ought to, and she relaxed as he sat beside her on the sofa, pulling her feet onto his lap and gently massaging them as he explained that Cuffe was obtuse when it came to managing his people, and how they desperately needed a new layout manager but he wasn't willing to get rid of the ancient one they had.

"I'm tempted to talk to Luna's father," he sighed.

"You're not thinking of joining his staff-of-one at _The Quibbler_ ," she teased, knowing that couldn't be what he meant.

"No, of course not. No, I thought about asking him about how he set up the paper, see if it would be possible for me to spearhead my own. Don't worry, I wouldn't run it out of the house, but I would really like to make something that's a serious competitor to the _Prophet_ , even if it's just to force Cuffe to make the tough choices or go under. What d'you think?"

Ginny tilted her head as she looked up at his earnest face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so animated apart from in the bedroom, and it was clear he felt very strongly about this.

"Well, we know plenty of reporters," she said thoughtfully. "And Cora's on the internship. You know she'd jump at a full-time job. Not just quality reporters, either, but ones with names that mean something. I say, if you want to give it a go, I'll start looking for premises for the production."

/-/

Caroline slipped into Damon's bed at the end of the night, musing to herself at how easy it had been to get away with not sleeping in her own bed for nearly the entirety of her final year at Hogwarts.

"Damn, you're beautiful," he sighed, watching her unlatch her robes and kick them to the foot of the bed, careful not to let them slip onto the floor. His roommates surely knew she stayed there, but it was easier to be discrete when there was plausible deniability.

"Good word choice," she teased, pulling him into a kiss and feeling the familiar muscles under his shirt before she began working at the buttons.

Damon was stressed out about the upcoming NEWTs, but she could hardly be bothered. Exams were never worth stressing over, and if he didn't get the scores he wanted, well, she could always support them both. She'd have more than enough money of her own to go without a day of work, if she wanted. She knew Damon had dreams and desires beyond being a house-husband, but if it took them a while to get there, they could make it work.

She decided to surprise him, making him roll over onto his stomach as she carefully massaged the knots and tension out of his back and shoulders, admiring his muscles as she worked, and relishing in the moans of appreciation he allowed at her work.

Definitely worth it.

/-/

Cora was surprised when Jimmy called her over to his flat at lunchtime. She clocked out a bit early for her lunch break, figuring it must be important, as he'd not thought he'd be available for lunch. She knew from her father they were making the annual cuts in the Auror program soon, and she had a horrible feeling in her chest that he might have been cut. The first year through was always the hardest.

He was sitting at the kitchen island when she arrived, and he poured her a glass of wine, which made her suspicious. She didn't argue as he passed her the wine, and she sat beside him.

"What is it?" she asked, nervously. "What's happened?"

"They did the Auror cuts today."

She bit her lip, holding in her words of comfort. Better to gauge how he was feeling before she tried to ease his pain. She knew this was what he wanted to do so desperately, but this was the tallest hurdle he would have faced along the way.

"Dawlish must have liked me," he said with a grin, sudden as a blink of the eye. "Because I've passed on. I get to do the next year of training."

"No," she said eagerly, touching his hand, grinning as he took a gulp of wine.

"Easier hours," he said happily, "and I get to spend the summer shadowing. And I've been assigned to your dad and uncle for my shadowing. They must have requested me for some reason, because I know they wouldn't have put me with my girlfriend's father otherwise."

She wasn't so sure, as they weren't engaged, and plenty of girlfriends' fathers would be eager to see the boyfriend fail. But she simply encouraged Jimmy to tell him more about it as she enjoyed her wine. She might clock in a bit late, too. It'd be worth the reprimand.

/-/

Linos finished his mid-day patrol of the area directly surrounding the library. A new idea of Aeson and Caroline's, the idea wasn't necessarily to catch trouble-makers, but to keep an eye on those OWL and NEWT students who were at the greatest risk of suffering nervous breakdowns or collapse from exhaustion or lack of food. Anyone who seemed to be at risk would be interviewed, and sent to Madam Pomfrey if they failed the checklist Madam Pomfrey helped Caroline and Aeson create.

So far, they'd not had any massive collapses, but Linos wasn't convinced the new system was exactly time-efficient. The people forced to do this patrolling and questioning were people who were, themselves, in need of time to study for their own exams.

Linos walked past the third floor stair on the North corridor and was startled by Caroline Black, who was strolling along with her usual confidence.

"Oh, Linos," she said with a small sniff. "Patrol?"

"All clear," he said, rubbing his nose absently. "Do I really have to do this every Tuesday?"

"It's a twenty-minute patrol, at best," she said sternly. "You're doing it to the best of your ability?"

He bristled and said, "I do everything to the best of my ability, Black. I'll do your patrols. But know I'm doing it under protest."

She raised an eyebrow and shrugged, and he was frustrated with how smug she was. He half-wanted to fight her, but he knew he'd lose. Instead, he stalked off, thinking of all the ways he could do his best work and still show his protest hadn't stopped. He thought perhaps he could appeal to Aeson, but she had a way of twisting her cousin around her little finger lately, so they had kept their united front all year.

No, he thought, he had a couple of months to consider how to manage the mess of managing Catherine Black, knowing she essentially ran the school. At the very least, he could think of ways to stay out of her way and avoid a fight. It might not be much, but in a couple of months, he'd never need to work with her again.

/-/

Catherine wiped her hands and walked through to the front of the shop, asking Kevin if he could take his break so they could have a word about something. There were no customers, so they turned the sign and went into the lab, where her most recent commissions were brewing, bubbling away with charmed stirrers for at least an hour.

"I'd like to have a word with you about your apprenticeship," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Did I do something wrong?" he said anxiously.

"No, not at all," Catherine said eagerly, smiling at him. "No, you've done a wonderful job. But I want to end your apprenticeship, because I want to offer you a partnership."

His jaw went a bit slack and he took a small step back as if literally staggered by the news.

"You want me as…a partner?"

"Yes," she said softly. "And I've an idea to hire another potioneer Severus has already contacted me about to apprentice here starting in July. Provided exams scores are high enough. I obviously cannot have two apprentices, and you are more than ready to become a partner here. And thinking about the suggestions you were making about expanding the brand, I think with an apprentice and the two of us, we could do that in the next couple of years. We could have our own apothecary operations in all the major wizarding markets in Britain and Ireland within the next ten, fifteen years. If…you're willing to help me start it."

"More than willing," Kevin said excitedly. "I've already been thinking about what it would take to buy the apothecary in Diagon Alley. I think it would be a much simpler acquisition than Hogsmeade, and it's where the vast majority of wizarding Britain does their shopping. Brum is a specialized market."

Catherine smiled and nodded, asking for him to sit down while they went over his thoughts.

/-/

Laura was just locking up her office for the night when Jason said goodbye to their last client of the day and locked the outer door.

"Exhausted," she sighed, stretching. "Who knew we'd have so many clients so soon?"

"Lots more Squibs than we think about," Jason said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I guess the stereotypes don't encourage people to open up about their situation."

Laura was excited to change the stereotyping, to give Squibs more of a place in modern wizarding society, and to do research into how Squibs happen, so that perhaps it could be avoided in wizarding children in future.

"Are you busy tonight?" he asked, backing her against the door to her office, his breath mingling with hers.

"Not really, why?"

"D'you want to spend the night at the cottage with me?"

Laura frowned, although her heart was racing at the implications.

"Cottage?"

"Yeah, my family has a cottage outside of Oxford. We never use it, but the elf keeps it clean. I've got a key."

The logistics hardly mattered, and Laura began to think of a prospect of spending a night with Jason for the first time. She shivered slightly and he smiled, obviously knowing she was going to say yes.

"Alright," she whispered against his lips. "I'll need to stop by my place to get a few things."

"I'll pick you up in ten." He kissed her lingeringly, teasing her. "Or d'you need more time?"

"That's fine."

She went back to her flat, packed a larger purse with the necessities for overnight – just in case – and checked her hair and makeup. She'd only just flicked her fringe straight when Jason knocked at the door. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her grin, and prepared to step into the next stage of their relationship.

/-/

Sirius opened up a butterbeer, and sat by his window, looking out on the grounds and nibbling at this thumbnail. His baby, his youngest, was about to go out into the world and leave Hogwarts. He'd considered leaving when his children left, but James reminded him there would be grandchildren, and when Jason married, Sirius could talk Cara into moving to the cottage, and maybe he could live out. Life could be cozy that way, if a bit different to what they were accustomed to.

Caroline would likely demand Damon marry her right away, and Damon would naturally be happy to oblige her. Sirius would be pleased to relinquish the manor to them, which would certainly be all the house they needed. When he died, the cottage would go to Jason, and Catherine and Harry already had two homes, and would probably get the Godric's Hollow house when Lily and James died.

He sighed, took a long drink of his butterbeer, and wondered how this morbidity had crept up on him so suddenly. He'd not thought of his own mortality for a great many years now, and he hoped he didn't think of it again for a great many more.

 **A/N: So, Blaise isn't satisfied with the Daily Prophet, Catherine is expanding her business, and Jason has worked out his future in his head – and expects it to follow suit.**

 **Review Prompt: So all you Caro/Damon lovers – thoughts on Jason and Laura?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: How open will [Harry and Kitty] be [to potential children] about how Padma got in control of them? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: Not nearly enough – which is to say, not at all.**

 **Q: Will this part end with a satisfying conclusion or a cliff-hanger? (Guest)**

 **A: I certainly wouldn't call it a cliffhanger, although the satisfying matter is in the eye of the beholder. Not every loose end will be tied, but I wrote this with the intention that I may not do another part and it would still be comfortable.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	155. March On

**A/N: And here's Bonus 31, just earned today! We've only got two more chapters after this, and I can't wait to see what y'all think.**

 **-C**

Brontes sat down in the second floor sitting room, and gestured for his mother to sit with him. She did, stiffly, and glanced at the bookshelf to avoid meeting his eye.

"In a few months, mother," he said softly, "I intend to marry Miss Zeller. In fact, I will marry Miss Zeller, and if I must have her family arrange the wedding entirely, I certainly will. But I know you have the skill and resources to give her whatever she wants, tastefully, and I would very much like for you to make peace with my future wife."

"I wasn't aware we were at war."

He took a few breaths to calm himself. Brontes loved his mother, but she drove him mad sometimes.

"You have never accepted her as my choice of bride," he said gently. "It would mean a great deal to me if you could put your feelings aside and help me with my wedding. It's the very least you could do as a gesture."

His mother took a very long time to answer, but she did agree to help, predictably. The wedding was going forward with or without her, and if their family name was being attached to something, she wanted it done right.

"Oh, and Mother?" he said as she stood to go. She froze. "Miss Zeller gets the final say on all matters. You may guide her, help her, assist her, and even advise her, but the decisions will be hers. Are we quite clear?"

Her shoulders were stiff and she did not turn to look at him, but she agreed to the terms and left him in the sitting room, taking slow, deep breaths. The wedding would be at Lestrange Manor, naturally. If his mother was not going to be amenable to Rose Zeller by then, he would have to think about making arrangements on another property. He would have to think of something, as he would not have his wife feeling a prisoner in her own home.

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Linos stood in the short line for the Charms practical on the first day of NEWTs and his heart was going mad in his chest. Now his final set of exams for the rest of his life were before him, he felt dizzy, weak, confused. What if he went in those doors and found he'd forgotten everything? Such things happened to students every year, he was told. What if he was one of those students this year?

He took deep breaths, paced the corridor a few times, and came back around to frown as he stood in the line. They would start calling in students at any point in time, now, and how could some students – like Aeson Lestrange – look so bloody calm?

And that wasn't counting Caroline Black, at the front of the line and full of infuriating calm composure she wore for every exam, like there wasn't any possible way she could do anything less than an Outstanding on any test she went in for.

For all he knew, this was the way her life had worked. He thought she might not have been especially skilled at Potions, but otherwise, he'd never known her to be less than superb at anything she tried for.

"Stop pacing, Linos," she said lazily. "You're making me dizzy. A terribly dull thing to do, I should think."

He had words he wanted to say to her, but he bit them back. It wouldn't do good to get all riled up now, even though it was something to focus his energy on, something mildly constructive, something better than the pacing she was criticizing, something better than the vomiting Anabelle Whitehorn had been doing off and on since breakfast. They had two very long weeks ahead. Best to pace himself.

/-/

Neville sat with Luna in her flat, pouring them each more tea. He'd helped her with some of the plants she kept in the flat, which had been ill beyond her ability to care for them. Neville said he'd be happy to look in on his lunch break at the greenhouse, and he brought her some cheeseburgers from a Muggle chain, which she craved voraciously in the fifth month of her pregnancy.

"Here," she said suddenly, motioning him over. He moved closer and she took his hand, pressing it to her swelled abdomen. He could feel a small vibration and light pressing, not like a kick. Almost like….

"That's her little hand," Luna said proudly. "Isn't it fantastic? The humming is supposedly her flexing her magical core. It's easier in the womb, direct connection between mother and child and all that. She doesn't need accidental magic yet."

"That's incredible," he said with a nod. "You know it's a girl?"

"No, Ron wants a surprise," Luna said, smiling to herself. "But I'm sure it's a girl, anyway. Couldn't be anything else."

Neville wanted to point out Ginny was the first female Weasley born in generations, but he knew it was best policy not to question Luna on most things. He asked if there was anything else he could do for her, while he happened to be around. She thought about it, very carefully, the way she thought about almost everything, but in the end, she shook her head and said, "No, thank you. It's very polite of you to offer, but I'm not so huge yet that I can't do most things without magic. And the misfiring magic isn't really so bad. Ron exaggerates. You know how he is. Small things become huge ones if they're not quite what he wants."

He didn't nod, but he wanted to. He knew exactly what she was saying about Ron, who seemed to always have an image in his mind of what his world and life ought to look like, and when things didn't match, it could feel like the world's great disaster. But Neville only kissed her cheek, told her he'd see her at dinner on Saturday, and that she should take care of herself. Luna simply said she always did.

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Caroline basically breezed through the Charms written exam, and she considered taking a nap for the remainder of her time, knowing that Damon wouldn't be interested in sleeping that night, but would instead insist on her quizzing him in bed. She found it a rather dull way to spend their nights together, but she obliged him. It was only two weeks, and then they'd never have to mess with such drivel again.

One of the examiners came around to her desk and said, "Are you stuck, dear?"

The woman was probably trying to be polite, but Caroline blinked up at her, trying not to imagine her as an insignificant bug to be squashed.

"Hardly," Caroline said with a bored smirk. "I've finished."

The woman blinked owlishly at Caroline, glanced down at the exam, and back at Caroline.

"Finished?"

"Yes," Caroline said, leaning back in her chair, fighting the urge to push it back on two legs. "Completed. Terminated. Executed. I have more terms if we haven't found one to your liking."

Or vocabulary, she thought, but bit back on. No need to make waves before her big exit.

"I see," the woman said, flipping through the exam papers quickly to see if Caroline really had finished, as though Caroline would exaggerate such a thing. "Well, this is…unusual."

"Not really, Fortuna," an elderly man said, who was running the whole room, smiling. "This is Professor Black's daughter. I had the pleasure of doing her sister's exams several years ago. Finished it in half this time. No offense, Miss Black."

"None taken," Caroline said with a shrug. "Catherine's a freak of nature."

Never mind, technically, Caroline was the one who was a bit of a freak. Catherine would have laughed, certainly. The very kindly man told Fortuna to gather Caroline's exam and let her leave.

"I'm sure she's better things to do with her afternoon."

Not really, but Caroline wasn't about to argue. She had sunshine she could soak in, a lake she could traverse, or some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to plot with. More pleasant, if not better, per se.

She left the examination room with a quick glance back at Damon, whose body was tense and stiff, the way he got just before a climax. Except his skin wasn't flushed the way she was used to. She smiled to herself and decided to go up to his room, where she was keeping the supplies, and do some plotting. It would be pleasant to spend her time off in a bed smelling like the combination of them, and to think about the proposal she was planning for him to make in the next few months. She'd already decided what her ring would look like, where he would ask, and exactly how long before he would talk to her father about permission. It was just a question of how to tell Damon his role.

/-/

Lily visited her son at Potter Manor, although she was still getting used to thinking of his home as such. He and Catherine had recently explained to Sirius about Catherine's potential difficulties, when they decided to have children, and Sirius was very understanding. He'd known of his cousins' problems with childbearing, and so it hadn't been a terrible shock.

What Lily knew that Sirius didn't was Catherine might not have had problems, had it not been for her drug usage. She couldn't stand to see him blame himself for something he hadn't been responsible for.

She checked in on both Catherine and Harry when she had the chance, not because she felt they needed it, but because she felt she needed to see they were alright, both of them. They'd been through a lifetime worth of mess, and they were barely past childhood.

Harry poured her a cup of tea, and she decided that was one positive of the ordeal they'd all been through – neither her son nor her daughter-in-law consumed alcohol anymore, and Sirius was climbing that mountain with them. In fact, Severus was close to advising that none of Sirius's children consume alcohol and certain potions, given the obvious genetic susceptibility to addiction. Lily would support his conclusions, however painful it would be to enforce.

"So, tell me," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "how is Kitty, really? I know she thinks she's fine, but I'm not so sure."

"She really is great," Harry said earnestly. "I know it's not perfect, and I've been reminded by Hermione life's not supposed to be perfect, but this is the closest we've ever been, Mum. I think knowing we didn't totally destroy all our options, I think that's really lit a fire under her. She's looking at ways of expanding the business, we've talked about getting Paddy a friend, and she's even talked about taking a vacation to France next summer, if the timing's right."

Lily was impressed, not because of the length of the list, but because Catherine hadn't ruled out France as somewhere for holidays. Lily had felt quite certain Catherine wouldn't be able to go there again. Perhaps things really were getting better.

/-/

James had never been a coffee drinker, but he found himself curious about the beverage after the Tuesday morning slot with the Slytherin second year students. He felt completely drained of energy, and he had practically a whole week ahead of him. And then another after. And then his marking.

"You look like shit," Sirius said brightly as the two men passed in the corridor, and James snorted.

"Don't be all chipper with me, sunshine," James said with narrowed eyes. "You've only got bounce in your step because you didn't need to wake up for breakfast and give an exam."

"Nope," Sirius said, tapping James's nose irritatingly, like someone patronizing a child. "I've got a bounce in my step because I took my free morning and visited my darling Kitty-Cat at work. We had tea in her office and I watched her brew. Severus is right, she's got a fabulous way with potions. I've never watched her brew before, you know."

James relaxed, knowing how much it meant to Sirius to be able to see Catherine any time he wanted.

"Well, save some of your energy for later," James said, smiling slightly. "I've got butterbeers in my office tonight. Could have a crowd."

/-/

Fabian shook his head, trying not to laugh as Gideon put Jimmy through his paces. He supposed Jimmy thought because he had Fabian's approval for dating Cora, he wouldn't be tortured at work over it. He hadn't realized the utter devotion Gideon had for his niece, and how no man would ever be good enough, as far as Gideon was concerned.

Maybe he should have warned the boy, but then he wouldn't have this endless stream of entertainment.

"Passable," Gideon said after the third re-write of the report they'd had him do. Jimmy turned green, but he nodded. Fabian happened to know the poor boy had spent hours of time on the report, hours which could have been spent with Cora – but this was probably Gideon's whole plan.

"Got one you and I can do alone," Fabian said, deciding Jimmy needed a break. "Vandalism in a Muggle area. You can imagine it's made the residents…uneasy."

Gideon was sour, but Jimmy seemed relieved to have just the one of them to deal with. Fabian grabbed a Muggle jacket for himself, and another for Jimmy, and led him out to the Muggle part of London.

"He hates me, doesn't he?" Jimmy said weakly.

"He doesn't hate you," Fabian said with a grin. "I'm not a protective father, Jimmy. Not overprotective, anyway. You've probably figured. My wife and I care about our kids, but apart from Ourania, we're confident they'll make the right choices without us constantly butting in. And Ourania's got Damon to look out for her, so she just needs the occasional check. Gideon took a shine to Cora early, though, so he's very attached to her well-being, if you take my meaning."

Jimmy sighed and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. To the boy's credit, he focused his mind on the job, didn't get wrapped up in the dilemma of how to win over Gideon. Fabian even let him lead on the questioning, and had him brainstorm the approach to dealing with the vandalism, the nearby Muggles, and the clean-up. He only missed a few points, comparatively minor, but Jimmy was driving himself with perfectionism, so he obviously took the fact he'd made mistakes hard.

"Want my advice for dealing with my brother?" Fabian said on the way back to the office, and Jimmy said he did want it. "You need to care less about what he thinks. I know it sounds mad, but if you make it clear your priorities are Cora and work, in that order, and you're not trying to pander to us, he'll have a lot more respect for you."

Jimmy frowned and said, "And this isn't some kind of…hazing thing?"

Fabian laughed. He wished he had the energy to haze recruits given over to him for observation, especially his daughter's boyfriend. But he assured Jimmy he wasn't interested in hazing, and said softly, "As entertaining as this is for the moment, Jimmy, it's going to get old fast if you don't stand up a little. Cora adores you. You don't need his approval."

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Euan Abercrombie hated being in the practicals at the same time as Caroline Black, particularly Transfiguration. Her ability to do wandless magic was something of a party piece at exams, never mind that she knew how to do every spell in the book without a second thought. But the Transfiguration NEWT took the cake.

"I saw your name in the registry," the kindly man doing her exam said, "and I was hoping you'd be willing to do a little demonstration. As it's Transfiguration, after all."

Registry? Euan wondered what registry this was supposed to be, and why it was relevant to her exams.

Caroline gave a bored sigh, smirked, and suddenly Caroline wasn't standing there at all. Instead….

Of course. Caroline Black had to be a bloody Animagus on top of everything else. In fact, she was a rather sleek-looking vixen, and she preened, yipping, before shaking her fur lazily. When she changed back to human form, several of the examiners cheered and clapped, thoroughly impressed she'd managed it while at school.

"It's nothing, really," she said, bored. "It was a way of focusing my magical core into wandless magic. Uncle – Professor Potter suggested it, and guided me. Are we done, here?"

"Yes, yes, quite, thank you very much," the examiner said brightly, shaking her hand. Caroline seemed unused to this behavior, and she blinked at him. Euan had seen purebloods and others in her set kissing hands, but he didn't think he'd ever seen a woman of her standing have their hand shaken before. He almost laughed, but he felt too sick to do anything but wince.

Euan walked out of his own Transfiguration practical thinking he ought to roll up in a ball and forget he ever took the course. He did have other exams to take, still, so he swallowed his pride and went back to his room, pulling out his notes and focusing on the future, rather than the past. The important thing about Transfiguration was he never had to do a thing with it again, if he was lucky. He probably wasn't lucky, in that respect, but he could hope.

Euan saw Caroline gliding up the corridor to Damon, who was waiting for her, pleased to see her. Before Damon could say a word Professor Potter came forward, around the corner, and said, "I've just heard you gave quite a performance, Caro. I'm pleased you chose to show off a bit. You've earned it."

"It was hardly showing off," she said with a sniff. "I'm in a bloody registry. I should be able to do it on the drop of a hat. And anyway, I didn't decide anything. They asked, and it would have been rude to refuse. I expect."

He just laughed, told Damon and Caroline to get plenty of sleep – with a rather saucy wink – and said hello to Euan as he passed. Euan felt like passing out.

 **A/N: So, Caroline is the exam queen, Luna's baby is getting closer, and the Blacks might be going substance-free….**

 **Review Prompt: What d'you reckon, should the other Blacks not drink, to be safe, or is that punishing the siblings for Catherine's mistakes?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Harry's dosage was far more than Catherine's, but it's effect on him is considerably lesser. Is it because of his willpower or something else? (Mercy)**

 **A: I sort of covered this earlier, but yes, there is some willpower involved. Padma wasn't wrong that it was more effective on females than males. And any good hypnotist would tell you, it's much harder to convince people to do something, even under these circumstances, if it isn't something they'd want just a little bit without the drug. Harry only wanted Catherine, only wanted to be with Catherine, with no real desire to touch anyone else. It took a lot of drugs and brainwashing to try to get him to act otherwise, and because he'd already been weaning himself for a matter of months before Catherine's detoxing started, he didn't have as much lingering in his system at the start of the treatment. So that's a factor, too. Doesn't matter how high the dose is if you're pouching it and hiding it instead of swallowing.**

 **Q: Will this cover-up come back in the future to bite them all in the ass? (Guest)**

 **A: In a perfect world, in a just world, it absolutely would. In a perfect world, the Blacks and the Potters and those they've pulled along with them would have to face up for their crimes, even the small ones. In a small way, I wish I could say that it would. But this is not a perfect world, and it is not a just world, and Catherine will not reveal the truth – through Mr. Barker – until many, many years down the road. Perhaps after any good could come of telling the truth. I'll cover that in Part 3. I don't see it as a spoiler, because I doubt anyone's surprised.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	156. Out with a Bang

**A/N: Here's Bonus 32! One more after this, and I'll be answering ALL outstanding questions with that last chapter, to have a fresh slate for Part 3, avoid confusion for any newcomers at that juncture. If you have lingering questions, looking forward or behind, PLEASE ask them as soon as you read this, if you want to get it in for the last chapter.**

 **-C**

Ron decided he was going to be an anxious father, and he told Luna that despite his previous wish to have a dozen children, he may want to stop at one or two. He didn't think his nerves could take too much pregnancy, not to mention the seventeen years of raising and worrying, and as the saga of Catherine's life had proved, one doesn't stop worrying when the child reaches seventeen.

He checked his watch, closed the shop before heading up to the flat, where Luna pulled a saucepan off the stove and kissed his cheek.

"You did all this without magic?" he said, puzzled as he looked at the table, which had a sizable meal for the pair of them.

"Some of us knew how to do a few things before we got a wand," she teased, and he recalled how she prepared meals for her father after her mother died.

"Right," he said with a laugh, sitting down and loading up his plate. "Feast at Hogwarts tonight. The last one of my cousins to go through."

"Two," she quipped, grinning. "D'you reckon Caroline will top the year?"

"I'd be stunned if she didn't," Ron said with a shrug before loading his fork and stuffing his mouth with food.

While there were many reasons why marrying Luna made an awful lot of sense, her wonderful cooking absolutely made the list. If there was one thing he felt he had escaped in Catherine having no interest in him – and the list was very lengthy – he knew Harry did all the cooking for their marriage, which wasn't Ron's idea of balance. But then, Harry's dad was a house-husband while he was growing up, so maybe it was sensible to Harry.

It certainly didn't feel sensible to Ron.

/-/

Catherine stood on the widow's walk in the cool evening air, watching the sea of grasses and crops on the surrounding land sway in the changes of the breeze. A small shiver rose through her spine and she closed her eyes, wondering if there had been a choice somewhere along the line she'd missed – perhaps if she'd not been in Hufflepuff, but in Gryffindor like her siblings, or Ravenclaw with Luna and Rhea, she wouldn't have been assaulted by Karkaroff in the first place. Ryana had been the weak link, and Catherine didn't think she'd ever have been friends with her if not for their sharing a room.

But perhaps he would have found a different way, and then she might have told her father the truth. But that seemed an impossibility, even seeing how holding on to the secret ate her up inside. Perhaps she and Harry could have found a better way for her to cope than the cigarettes and alcohol and eventually the drugs, but she by this point in her imaginings, she couldn't find any way this could have been possible, much less where her life would have gone from there.

Maybe the idea of fate was not that there was only one path, but that all paths led the same checkpoints and destination – in the end. All things considered, she supposed she could have landed in a much darker place than the life she had now, even knowing the people and capital and integrity her extended network had sacrificed to keep her life afloat. Perhaps, despite everything, this was always how her life would work out.

"Cat?"

She turned her head to see Harry coming out from the staircase, and he kissed her hand gently before he wrapped his arms around her.

"Just thoughtful," she said, smiling against his neck as he smoothed her hair. "Caro's leaving Hogwarts."

"Your lucky father," he teased. "Imagine how much easier his job is going to be without any of you to discipline for your rotten behavior."

She laughed, because if she didn't, she might cry.

/-/

Natalie and Kevin sat on a bench outside her mother's place, going over their plans for the wedding. They had a year, but they took the planning seriously – as they took everything.

She'd been startled when he said Catherine Potter not only gave him a partnership, but said if he wanted somewhere grand for the wedding, she'd be happy to accommodate him either in England or at her villa in France.

They opted to decline, wanting a smaller, intimate wedding with only family and friends. They both had small families, and they would invite Laura, Cora, Jason, Jimmy, and Dennis. That was plenty big of a wedding for their tastes, and as both had been raised Anglican, they thought a church wedding would be interesting and appropriate. The bonding could be done after at the Ministry for the magical component, but it meant a lot to Natalie to have a wedding that made sense to their parents, as so much of their lives was a mystery to their Muggle relatives.

"Where are we going to live?" Kevin asked, stretching his legs. "I can start looking at places. Harry told me the realtor they used for both their homes is practically a miracle worker, can find anything you want, in a wizarding or Muggle neighborhood."

They discussed what would be practical for work, as well as being near friends. Jimmy and Cora were London-based for the foreseeable future, which meant so was Dennis – at least until Jimmy and Cora got married. Jason and Laura would likely be London-based as well, for the foreseeable future. But Kevin's work was in Birmingham, so the Midlands made a great deal of sense for that, practically.

"I suppose we could look in both places," Natalie said, frowning. "I've never particularly liked London, and it's so expensive to live in the city. The Midlands would be cheaper, and we might be able to get more of what we want if we stay to the north."

Kevin agreed, and they relaxed, setting aside their notes. He wrapped his arm around her waist and Laura rested her head on his shoulder, pleased she and Jason had the foresight not to stay together. She couldn't imagine the circus of a wedding she'd feel she had to hold if she'd married Jason, and living in his London home. No, Kevin was much more her speed.

/-/

Caroline waited patiently, accepting her awards with grace and poise, trying not to laugh at the approving look Professor McGonagall was giving her, knowing there would be some comment about the impressive maturity Caroline had cultivated when she got to the final speech.

It was frustrating the Great Hall was decked in silver and emerald, but Caroline supposed winning the Quidditch Cup was more down to her than the House Cup was down to Aeson. She considered it a personal victory.

"Second," Professor McGonagall, "is an honorable position in any year, although it may not always feel that way. In some years, with particularly exceptional students, second may feel a bit less of a sting, and this year we had a hard battle for second."

Rose came close, then, Caroline supposed, leaning on her elbows as Professor McGonagall made more excuses why Aeson getting second in the year was not a disgrace. Caroline took all her will-power not to grin at her cousin, but it would make her final gesture all the better if she held her maturity to the very last moment.

"Aeson Lestrange," Professor McGonagall finally announced, and Caroline clapped, over her face, to hide the twitch of triumph at her lips as she watched him stroll forward as though it wasn't paining him to know he didn't make first. Of course, he knew he'd never be able to, but the actual losing of the fight was bitter, no matter how long ago he resigned himself to it. She bit her lip to hold in a giggle.

The Hall quieted, and Caroline shifted so she would better be able to stand from the bench and accept her honors for top of the year. Her father was watching her, so she didn't want to do anything too suspicious. He had a good eye for trouble, perhaps especially for her brand of trouble, and nothing could get in the way of her plans.

Come to think of it, she realized as she tried to look innocuous, Snape and Uncle James and Uncle Remus were all watching her, and she realized they knew she'd planned something. Or perhaps they simply guessed, she supposed, feeling her pulse raise. Could they see the signs of her excitement and anxiousness from this distance? She knew they might if she were at the end of the table, but she's sat in the middle for that very purpose. Not too far away to raise suspicion, and not too close so she'd be caught out.

Perhaps she was simply too suspicious by half without giving a single sign.

Caroline took a few deep breaths and waited as Professor McGonagall began her speech, talking about scores and such. Dull things.

/-/

Astoria sat with Draco's mother, feeling her hands tremble under the table as the tea was poured and passed. She looked up at Narcissa Malfoy and wondered if she could ever be as good of a mother, a facilitator, a society lady as Draco's mother. All the things Narcissa had accomplished without anyone giving her a second thought, to Astoria this was the very definition of power and accomplishment. If she could support Draco and his endeavors, even in some small way, while the credit went to him, she would feel she'd come at least partway to living up to Narcissa's legacy.

"May I ask you a question?" Astoria said softly.

"Of course."

"Forgive my impertinence, but do you ever feel you might have accomplished more if you married…someone else?"

Someone more focused, more suitable for the times, Astoria thought, but didn't dare say.

To her surprise, Narcissa Malfoy's lips twitched with amusement and she said, "Actually, my dear, I find the depth and breadth of my accomplishments have been particularly aided by Lucius's…needs. Had I married a man something more like my cousin or my son, I would not have felt the necessity to become so versatile and hands-on. I expect I would be a variation on Madam Black. You are blessed you do not have to be like me, Astoria. My skills are not something to covet, because they were cultivated in years of uncertainty and darkness, and they've been used in moments of crisis, disaster, and standing on the edge of utter ruin. I sincerely hope you never have a need to make the choices I've made.

"It isn't my husband's fault, really. Perhaps he magnified the times we lived in, made the concerns more immediate. You are very blessed to be a child of peace, even if you'll never understand just how blessed."

/-/

James had a strong sense of what would happen almost as soon as Professor McGonagall praised Caroline's cultivated maturity and grace – and a small twinkle of mischief appeared in Caroline's eye. It was so reminiscent of her father, James almost laughed, but he bit his lip and held it in, and when Caroline's name was called and she stood to stride forward, he wasn't a bit surprised when fireworks of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes variety exploded around the room.

It was a beautiful kind of chaos. Caroline continued to glide forward as though not a thing had happened, while some of the teachers and students attempted to remove the fireworks. Of course, any attempt to vanish the things caused them to multiply, and Minerva's eyes went wide with horror as Caroline reached the podium, holding her hand out for her award.

On top of the chaos, James could hear the bark-like laugh of Sirius, pleased that at the end of his children's tenure at the castle, they went out with a bang, a kind of last Marauder tribute to the school before the eventual grandchildren populated the halls.

"A pleasure, professor," Caroline said cheekily.

So much for maturity, James thought with his own laugh, turning to wink at the tight smile of Remus and the bored sigh of Severus.

Harmless, and James knew how to get rid of the fireworks, when the celebrations were done and students had been evacuated back to their dormitories. But why remove them before they'd had time to be appreciated? At least, that was James's view of the matter.

/-/

Cora woke with her parents early, preparing the celebrations for when the twins arrived home. It would be weeks until their NEWT results arrived, until they began the next phases of their lives. Cora hadn't the heart to tell her parents about the letter Ourania had sent, admitting she and Aeson Lestrange were "sort of a thing," which probably meant snogging without actually discussing commitment. The sort of thing those two would do, of course, after spending years dancing around the sexual tension.

She wasn't sure how her mother would look on that kind of arrangement, and with Aeson, of all people. So, she decided her sister could be the one to give the news to their parents.

"Sirius wrote this morning," her father said at breakfast, grinning. "You know how he said Caro had been impeccably behaved all year and none of us could put a finger on how or why? Well, apparently she set off a massive firework extravaganza when Professor McGonagall announced her as top of the year. Wish I could have seen it."

Cora's lips twitched as she ate her eggs, knowing her mother was holding in a sigh. No use in causing any extra friction by laughing and "encouraging" her father's interest in the event.

"How's Jimmy doing, Dad?" she asked, swiftly shifting the morning's tone as her father told her with great amusement how Jimmy had turned the tables and was now frustrating Gideon by not giving him the satisfaction of reacting to the harsh treatment.

"I confess, I gave him advice," he said, shrugging. "Poor boy was desperate to please your Uncle Gideon, and I just had to explain to him as long as he could, Gideon would refuse to approve, as long as he knew it meant something to Jimmy. Hey, d'you reckon you could do something nice for him tomorrow? He's getting the afternoon off because it's our afternoon off, and I don't want him spending the whole thing doing a mountain of paperwork for your uncle."

"I'm sure I can come up with something," Cora said with a grin.

She had her own work obligations, but she had a feeling that between her and Dennis, she'd be able to work out a way to keep him occupied until she could spend the evening with him, show him how to actually spend his afternoons off. She also though she should have a quiet talk with Uncle Gideon about his silly behavior. The last thing she needed was him scaring away her boyfriend.

/-/

Euan laughed as the train pulled along the track, closer to London, the very last time he would ever ride the Hogwarts express. He'd taken a moment to congratulate Caroline before he found a compartment, and she was very blasé about the whole thing.

"I was hoping for a bit…more," she said with a shrug. "But I suppose that's the way it is when you plan something for so long. It always turns out less spectacular than you hope."

Euan couldn't believe how well she'd played the part of the newly-responsible student, not at all concerned with the way she would leave the school in a bit of a tizzy. He settled with Gryffindors not in her sway, and he watched the world zoom by.

"I think," Persephone Wood said softly, "we've been especially lucky."

"How d'you mean?" Euan asked as Jessica pulled out a packet of Droobles and began passing the gum around.

"Well, no one expected us to dazzle the year, because we had an actual freak of nature in our year. We had a killer Quidditch team, so we basically won every match. And we never lacked entertainment from the antics of our year, and the years around us. And we hardly had to raise a finger to get any of it."

Euan nodded, and Jessica hummed her agreement. Demelza, who was picking at her thumbnail by the door, said, "The question is, how on earth are we going to amuse ourselves and manage in the real world? Hogwarts is a bit of a…miniature universe. And now we're out of it. I half-wish I'd failed so I could go back and do it again."

They all nodded, which caused Euan great relief. He was glad he wasn't alone in the fear of the unknown, the fear of that next chapter. He didn't know what his life would be, wasn't even sure he knew what he wanted to do with his life. He applied for a few Ministry jobs he thought he'd have qualifications for, but they weren't things he was interested in, or passionate about. He wondered, as the train continued to pull along, if he wasn't maybe deficient in something. So many of his peers had known what they wanted for longer than he knew how to properly hold a wand.

But he supposed life would unfold, with or without him.

/-/

Ron poured his wife a cup of tea and checked his watch. The train should be pulling in at King's Cross soon, and he wondered if Harry and Catherine had gone to welcome back Caroline to the real world. He wished he'd had a sibling at Hogwarts still, so he could justify going back, even just to the station, to see a swathe of familiar faces and greet old friends. Cousins didn't seem a suitable excuse to go the way siblings did.

Soon enough, though, he thought as he handed Luna the tea carefully, their child would be at school. Eleven years suddenly seemed excruciatingly long and terrifyingly short, all at once.

 **A/N: So, Caroline tops the year, goes out with a bang, and is so totally bored with all of it. Love her.**

 **Review Prompt: Last chance to ask me whatever question your heart desires on Part 2! I'll try to respond to reviews personally out after the final episode (will be posted tomorrow, along with the beginning of Part 3, at least!), but I can't make promises I'll be prompt, especially given how many reviews y'all do!**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Will Harry get bored with the domesticity with age and start working again like his father? (Marcytherock)**

 **A: Erm, not really. He'll help with the business from home a bit, doing sums and organizing inventory overflow in Catherine's at-home lab, etc. But he's quite happy with the domesticity, especially later, when they stop having a house-elf and he and Ryana keep the house between them.**

 **Q: With Catherine and Harry's sex life does she enjoy being with Harry, or does she just be with him to make him happy, compared to being with Ryana? (Michand)**

 **A: Good question! She enjoys being with both of them, but differently. She deeply loves Harry, and enjoys being with him physically, but there's always going to be that baggage of the programming. It will be better with the year, but especially right away, it's something that's harder for her. Where with Ryana, she enjoys the physicality, but while she has affection for Ryana and feels guilty for messing up her life, she doesn't love her the way she loves Harry. She enjoys both, but it's different. And she's not just physically with Harry to make him happy, not at all.**

 **Q: Is the title of [Chapter 140] the name of the flower Harry puts on Catherine's bed? (Mercy)**

 **A: YES! It's the Latin name of the flower. If you've never seen a Himalayan blue poppy, you really need to do an image search and take a look. They're gorgeous things, a frail and unique sort of beauty. They've always struck me as somehow astral, compared with traditional English or California poppies, and with such a striking color, but with that a similar floppy, flimsy quality. Ephemeral. Beautiful, beautiful flowers. Very difficult to keep alive, but so worth it. And if you were wondering, I did select them especially for Catherine. They're my favorite flower, anyway, but I thought of them a lot when I was sketching her character.**

 **Cheers!**

 **C**


	157. For As Long As You Both Shall Live

**A/N: September the first, 2002, at the birth of Luna's baby…**

Harry tried not to grin at Ron's anxiety. He was pacing back and forth across the kitchen area of his flat, as the main living area was crowded with people who'd come straight to Hogsmeade. Even the teachers in the crowd were gathered, as it was a quick walk from the birth to work, and they'd still arrive well before the students.

"He looks like he's going to be sick," Neville whispered, gone a bit pale, himself. He and Hermione had married a few months back, and she was already expecting. No doubt, he was thinking of what it would be like when his daughter would be born in spring.

"It'll be alright, mate," Harry said, clapping Neville's shoulder. "Hermione will have a list of things for you to do while she's in labor that's so long, you won't have time to worry."

Neville laughed weakly, but it was only half a joke.

Most of the people gathered around were waiting for the baby to come so the bets taken on male or female could be settled, once and for all. Especially as Ron had announced the first time Luna screamed from the bedroom they were absolutely not having another child, right before he rushed outside to sick up.

Harry wasn't worried about what Catherine might be like, should they decide they were having children. He figured he was so happy to have her, and would be so happy to have any children they had, it wouldn't be worth worrying. After all, Aunt Cara had three children and came out alright, so a child or two wouldn't kill Catherine.

"I suppose I should make lunch," Molly Weasley said thoughtfully, taking a quick count of the people waiting in the front room. "We may have some time to wait. I'll pop out for supplies, and then I'll need you to vacate the kitchen space, Ronald, unless you're going to help me."

Ron looked as though the very thought of food, for once, was causing him extreme physical pain, and he almost screamed with relief when a sound very clearly the cry of a child came from the bedroom, and everyone went silent among the spectators.

Catherine popped her head out and said, "Ron, your daughter's here."

Ron was pretty boneless with the relief, so Neville and Harry dragged him over to the bedroom to see his child.

/-/

Jimmy petted Cora's hand and they sat forward, watching as the new baby was brought out in her father's arms, Ron suddenly confident and proud again, now that he knew his wife and child were both quite healthy.

"Kelda," Cora said experimentally. "It's not bad. Bit unusual. Kelda Weasley."

"Well, the granddad's a Xenophilius," Harry teased. "I reckon Kelda's not so bad. Can I hold her, Ron?"

Ron nodded, and Jimmy watched Harry's face as he took the tiny little girl in his arms, her little red body so small in a room full of full-grown adults.

"She's beautiful, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley cooed, looking at her granddaughter with excitement. "Oh, how wonderful to have another girl in the family. Such a shame you're not having any more. Perhaps Bill will get to it, have some children."

Professor Black cleared his throat and said, "Right, some of us have work to go do, so let's have the teachers parade by the child and pay their respects, shall we? Kitty-Cat, pass my best to the mother, will you?"

"Yes, Daddy," Catherine said with a laugh and a wink before retreating into the bedroom, where Ginny, Rhea, Catherine, and Madam Potter had assisted in the birth.

"Oh, so lovely," Professor Black said tearfully, almost as soon as his daughter had closed the door. "Take care of her, Ron. All children are precious, but there's something about a baby girl…"

Jimmy wondered whether Professor Black was imagining his own daughters at this size and age, holding them in his arms not long after their first gasps of oxygenated life. Jimmy squeezed Cora's hand. Their own wedding would be at Christmas, and Jimmy had to admit to himself, he wouldn't mind having a kid or two, when he and Cora decided the time was right. Probably not until after he was a full Auror and she had a steady job, or maybe a freelance position where she could work from home instead of taking a maternity leave around the actual birth.

"Mum," Ourania said, sitting toward the back with Aeson Lestrange (her recent fiancé) resting a hand on her, in a way his mother would have certainly deemed scandalous. "How long until I can train her to say my name?"

Madam Prewett laughed and said, "You've got a tough one, dear. You were almost five before you could say it properly yourself. Just…be patient. I know that's hard for you. But be patient."

Aeson whispered something in her ear and smirked, and she flicked at him playfully, smirking back. Jimmy shivered slightly at the thought someday those two were planning to be married. The world might explode.

/-/

Caroline left the celebrations for the baby and went back to Selwyn Manor (which was now known as Prewett Manor), where she and Damon had been living since their hasty marriage almost as soon as their NEWTs arrived. He'd had a head cold all morning, and it was decided he stay home for the safety of the newborn. She wanted to be sure he got the news about his cousin's baby soon.

"Damon!" she cried as she hurried up the steps. "Damon, she had the baby! It's a girl!"

She flung open the door to the master suite, the bedroom she'd loved so much as a child, still smelling vaguely of her parents despite the new occupants. Damon lifted his head slightly and smiled weakly.

"That's nice," he said, stuffy, but not as bad as he'd sounded that morning. "Name?"

"They've named her Kelda," she said with a giggle, sitting beside him, tracing her fingers across his face. "I'll get you some Pepper-Up, shall I?"

He moaned, but he nodded. It wasn't a pleasant potion, but it would help him feel himself for a few hours. She fetched the potion and brought it back, caressing his hair gently.

She had a position with Puddlemere United as a Seeker, but she was the reserve for the moment, so she had a little more time off than the first-team Seeker. Damon, on the other hand, had an internship at the _Prophet_ , which meant far too long of hours.

Caroline dosed Damon with the Pepper-Up and waited for his ears to stop steaming before she curled up on the bed beside him. He rolled over slightly and rested his face on her chest.

"I love you," he muttered. "So much."

/-/

Lily sat with Catherine while Harry and Neville took Ron out for a pint, and Hermione cared for Luna and Kelda. Catherine looked exhausted, and a bit pale as she stared out the window to the streets of Hogsmeade below.

"Harry was really excited about that baby, wasn't he?" Catherine said softly, frowning. "And I know Daddy was, even though he didn't want me to know." Lily said nothing, waiting to see where Catherine's thoughts carried them. "She was a sweet little thing, wasn't she?"

"Yes," Lily whispered. "I think Kelda will be a credit to her parents. And it will be interesting to see what Neville and Hermione's daughter is like. They'll be at Hogwarts together, in about eleven years."

Catherine hummed and smiled, wrapping her arms around her, almost self-consciously, or as if she were suddenly cold.

"It might take a while," she said softly. "Severus said maybe months, but more likely as long as five years. But I think…I think it's time to start trying. Maybe, if we're lucky, it won't take so long."

"Start…?"

Catherine's lips twitched and she turned to look at Lily, her resemblance to her mother startling in that moment.

"The treatments, for my fertility. There's only so many dogs Harry will let me get, and Paddy and Penny will want company. It's a big house for three people and two dogs."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Lily said softly, unable to hold in her smile. "If you're quite certain."

"I am," Catherine said earnestly, her arms dropping in a subconscious show of confidence. "Just…don't tell Harry right away. Between you and me. I…want to be the one to tell him, and he should probably know before I tell Severus, and I want to know the treatment's taking before I tell Daddy."

Lily nodded, and told Catherine it was a wise precaution. Especially with this baby's presence, Sirius was one to get his hopes up.

/-/

Sirius sat in his office with Remus, staring at the framed pictures he kept on his desk, pictures of his children, of his wife, of Catherine and the dogs. She looked so happy, so full of life. Catherine wasn't likely to have a child soon, but he had high hopes, in the next year or so, he'd get an announcement from Caroline and Damon they were expecting. Or perhaps Jason and Laura would hurry up and announce an engagement, as everyone knew they would do soon.

"Kitty knows you want a grandchild, Padfoot," Remus said softly. "Why do you think she keeps looking at more dogs? She told me yesterday she was thinking of getting a third."

"They just got Penny," Sirius said, his lips twitching downward, despite his attempts to stay neutral. He loved the Irish Setter they'd picked up in late June, a sweet-tempered dog who got on well with Paddy, and with Sirius when he was transformed.

"She's thinking of a terrier," Remus said, smirking, "but I think they weren't sure whether they wanted another quite so soon. I'm not certain she'd broached the idea with Harry, yet."

Sirius shook his head, smiling, and he poured more tea for himself and Remus.

/-/

Brontes watched Rose as she prepared the potions for the shop. She worked under his cousin, but he knew she was hoping to take Professor Snape's post, when Professor McGonagall deigned to retire. He waited until he saw her take the potion off the heat and put it in a stasis chamber she'd devised for storage before announcing his presence.

"Oh," she said with a small laugh and a beautiful smile. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to admire how beautiful you are," he said, pulling her close and kissing her, getting that same thrill he had every time she was close. A shiver ran through him as he thought vaguely of their wedding, of the wondrous sensation of touching her skin, of feeling the heat of her body against his for the first time without barriers in the way. At the thought, his body was prepared to relive the experience all over again.

"You're always saying that," she said, although the smile she gave him was glowing with a restrained pleasure.

"I always mean it," Brontes said, wondering how on earth he'd gotten so lucky. "You busy, darling?"

"Not for another hour and a half," she said with a shrug, checking her watch.

"Good," he whispered against her lips. "Fancy going upstairs with me?"

She laughed, but she let him lead her up to their bedroom. They had a wing apart from his parents, which suited them fine, and even his mother had been relatively warm since the wedding. But the two couples gave each other a wide berth, knowing there would be plenty of tension if they saw too much of each other.

As soon as they were in the bedroom, Brontes kissed Rose with all the desire and passion one can put into a kiss, and he carefully slipped his hands under the hem of her dress, lifting the fabric bit by bit in anticipation of exploring his wife – an exploration he never tired of.

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Rabastan knew Catherine had the apothecary closed for the day, mostly because she didn't want to mess with it when they hadn't known how long the birth would be, so there was no point running by the shop to see if she was around. Instead, he went by Grimmauld Place, where Cara was sure to be alone.

Cara greeted him warmly at the door, and they took tea in the sitting room. He admired the way her dress draped her figure, but he kept his expression mild and made a point of telling her that she looked lovely.

"Well, quite an occasion this morning," she said, smiling brightly. "It's so much nicer when someone else is doing all the hard work."

He laughed, nodding. They fell into conversation about the very loose matter of wedding arrangements for his younger son to Fabian and Dorcas's youngest daughter.

"They're very blasé about the whole thing," Rabastan said with a grin. "Delia's beside herself, can't even be fussed with trying to make poor Rose miserable because she's too worried about how often Aeson might be fornicating with his intended. Whatever she thinks about old notions, at least Brontes stuck to the old ways of courtship."

/-/

Luna sat up and kissed Kelda's forehead, wishing away all the troubles of the world. Kelda had a bit of peach fuzz for hair, but Luna suspected she be a ginger, when all was said and done, or possibly strawberry blonde. Her eyes were very light, and they might stay that way. It was a pity Ron took the whole matter of childbirth so poorly, because Luna thought, apart from several hours of pain, it really wasn't so bad. And Kelda was so beautiful. She wouldn't have minded going through it again.

But then, she didn't want to distress her husband, and as both of them expected to continue working their busy lives, perhaps one was enough.

They could always get a few birds to keep. Apart from the owl.

She pressed her lips to her daughter's soft, tender forehead and she whispered, "You are a very precious thing, Kelda. Beautiful, special, and utterly precious. Your father and I love you very, very much. Never forget. You're just starting out, you know. You can do anything you want to do, although I expect you'll have a bit of a tendency for trouble. Seems to run in your fathers' family, and I've no doubt your uncles will encourage you. But I love you, regardless."

/-/

Jason watched Laura as the prepared their statement for the Ministry, requesting research funds to hire personnel. He'd had a thought on his mind for some time, and with both his sisters married, a cousin married and another engaged, he couldn't stop thinking it was time to take the plunge.

"I'm going to ask you something," he said, and she looked up, curious. "I'm, erm, uncharacteristically underprepared, but I assure you the question is utterly serious and sincere."

"I wouldn't expect you to pull my leg," she said, giving him a curious smile.

He took her hand, kissed it, and said, "Marry me."

/-/

Damon managed to get out of bed for lunch, with the help of Pepper-Up and the promise of some quiet time with his wife. Still so lovely and surreal, thinking of Caroline and his wife, but every time it came to his mind, he still grinned like a mad person. He found Caroline sitting at the table, and the grin came to his face again. He didn't kiss her, didn't want to get her ill in case he was contagious, but he touched her hand gently and sat beside her. They ate in the kitchen unless they had guests, as the dining room table was absolutely massive for only two people.

"I just got a note from Jason," Caroline said with a grin. "You'll never guess."

"He finally proposed to Laura," Damon said with a small smirk.

Caroline rolled her eyes, so he knew he'd got it right in one. They were likely to take a bit longer with planning the wedding and preparing everything, being planners and preparers quite in their usual line. Damon expected once they did tie the knot, Jason and Laura would move in to Grimmauld Place, and it was possible Professor Black and his wife would move to the cottage. He wondered how odd it would be for them, living all their lives in big, grand houses, to wind down and live in a cottage for the rest of their years. He wondered what it would be like.

Damon said he was looking forward to the wedding, which he was, and Caroline laughed, saying it would likely coincide when whenever her sister bought another puppy.

"She needs to be careful," Caroline teased, "or those two are going to be running a kennel of sorts out of Potter Manor."

Damon didn't think there was anything so bad about that, and he knew Caroline didn't think so, either, but he didn't say anything. Catherine and Harry did a good job with their dogs, and they were very sweet animals.

"You know," Caroline said, playfully walking her fingers up his arm, "my father looked at the baby today like he was seeing the most beautiful thing in the world. You know he wants grandchildren." Damon bit his lip and nodded. He was quite aware of his father-in-law's desire for grandchildren. "Well, I'm not sure I want kids right away, but I wouldn't be averse to it, and I certainly think we should start practicing, don't you?"

He gulped and nodded, and he asked very softly how many kids she was thinking of, and she said with a wicked sort of grin, "I don't know, darling. We've got an awfully big house to fill. I take that as a bit of a challenge, don't you?"

Challenge bloody accepted.

 **A/N: So, Kelda Weasley is born, Hermione and Neville are expecting, Caro and Damon are married, and two more engagements besides! And both of Sirius's daughters are thinking of children. Maybe not the tightest closing off, because Lucius is still dying, Rabastan's obsession is hanging over their heads with only Delia knowing, and Catherine still isn't totally sure she'll be able to HAVE children.**

 **I'm posting the first chapter of Part 3 concurrently (shockingly titled Unknowns, Part the Third), so check it out! I'll be posting updates to people's relationships, jobs, and CHILDREN for Part 3 on my profile later today, so be sure to wait to check that out until you've started reading Part 3, or you'll have a big shock when you look at it.**

 **Review Prompt: How many grandchildren do you suppose Sirius will have?**

 **Q &A:**

 **Q: Won't [Harry] feel more possessive of his children when it comes to having Ryana's taking care of them as a nanny? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: At first, awkward, yeah. But the thing about Ryana is that even though she has zero sexual interest in him, she does like him very much as a friend, and they'll reach an understanding pretty quickly. While Padma was inherently possessive and megalomaniacal, Ryana is an inherently warm, giving, and positive person, and the last thing she wants is to hurt either one of the Potters.**

 **Q: What are the ['fruits of propriety' Astoria 'understands']? (Mercy)**

 **A: Yeah, the idea of waiting for marriage not only for sex, but also for sexual thoughts, behaviors, etc. is an old one, and varies in severity by society and personal moral strictness. Astoria and Draco are not as extreme in their understanding as Brontes, who made himself pretty sick with worry in his almost monk-like attitude. Astoria did have sexual fantasies, as did Draco, but neither would put it in writing, and neither would say it out loud, and neither would act on it. The "fruits of propriety" as they understand it is that by waiting, they avoid scandal, they put off possible side effects (like early pregnancy) to when they're set up to deal with them, and they have the anticipation on the first time that many people believe makes the first time better. It's not true for everyone, but plenty of people DO behave this way about sex and sexuality, and not all of them are unhappy for it. It's not my personal favorite way, but it does work for some people, provided they don't carry to extremes.**

 **Q: Despite [Adrasteia's] reputation, isn't Rabastan very wealthy? Why aren't there any suitors for her? (Mercy)**

 **A: Yeah, Rabastan's quite wealthy. And there are suitors, but none she or her mother consider…worthy. And she's very…difficult to live with, so it would take wanting her for the money. Remember, she's from a family with fewer properties than the Blacks, and her family – while extremely wealthy – has less wealth than the Blacks, the Potters, and the Malfoys, as well as less of a name for importance. Unlike the Blacks, who've split things out among their children, property-wise, apart from some living allowance for Adrasteia if she remains unmarried, everything goes to Brontes when Rabastan dies. Call it patriarchy (it sort of is), but the pressure is way more on her to marry well than on someone with less money to marry her. Rabastan would probably give her a sizable dowry, but it wouldn't be anything like what Sirius can easily give both of his daughters, in property and in gold.**

 **Q: What kind of world is it where air travel between Britain and France can be considered 'expensive' by these people of such boundless wealth? (Mercy)**

 **A: You forget, this is Rabastan talking. He knows NOTHING about the Muggle world, and he's going off something he heard from someone who probably knew even less. And he's saying it to Severus, who grew up poor and hasn't really travelled Muggle since, so he hasn't kept up on airfare prices. Even if he knew it wasn't so bad, he wouldn't have argued with the Portkey instead, for convenience, and so he would not have corrected Rabastan. But yes, it's meant to feel slightly incongruous to a careful reader.**

 **Q: Is [Rabastan's] obsession/feelings for Kitty going to take on a more sinister aspect? (danceegirl92)**

 **A: I mean, sinister isn't quite the word I'd use, but yes, it's going to cause some very serious problems. I consider sinister as someone who does something awful for the purpose of doing something awful. Like a Karkaroff. Rabastan more…loses control of himself. But yeah, it's going to get dark.**

 **Q: Can't you just remove Ryana from the story completely? (Asma20)**

 **A: I could. I won't. She won't be in Part 3 long, remember. Just 5 chapters. But her "leaving" is going to be a point in a larger puzzle that one or two of the characters will have to unravel. She's important. I won't apologize for those of you who don't like her, because I don't believe in apologizing for things that aren't mistakes, but I will say that I'm sorry if she distresses your sensibilities in any way.**

 **Q: Will there be any Brontes POV any time soon? (Michand)**

 **A: So, this Brontes POV in this chapter is the LAST Brontes POV in the series. With children coming and old enough for viewpoints, plus dogs' POV (YES you read that right, there will be dogs with POV, especially the Irish Setter, Penny, introduced in this chapter), I had to make some tough choices on who got a POV and who couldn't be added to the list. There are fewer things going on, so you'll see a lot of the same POVs much of the time, like in Part 1. Brontes won't be among them, but Rose will make the occasional appearance in the rota.**

 **Cheers, and see you in Part 3!**

 **C**


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